The Boston Massacre
by StephenMcTowelie
Summary: (*By Request) The story of the Falling Skies main cast within the context of my reboot AU. Rated T for violence and some mild language. Chapter 20 completed. Chapter 1 Revision complete, Chapter 2 revision pending
1. Chapter 1: The Day the Sky Fell

_Foreword:_

 _As the summary states this is the story of the FS Canon characters set in my remake timeline that I started in FS: Korea._ _I plan on running this story up to mid-December(in-universe time) at which point it will merge with one major branch of "Our Hearts, Half A World Away" (or whatever I end up renaming that story once it gets going.) and subsequently around the end of s3-s4 timeframe that story will merge with FS :Korea or its direct sequel until the end of this continuity is reached._ _Being that this in an AU it will not be a direct retelling of events recounted in the comics or referenced in the series. Certain facts and events will deviate from canon here for the initial invasion and the first two seasons with the main cast the differences will be akin to that between TWD the comics and TWD the TV show to give you a frame of reference. From that point onward however forget what you know because it is going to be a whole different animal._ _Two things I can give out without spoiling anything are that there will be no Espheni Queen in this continuity (I hated the finale and the ridiculous deus ex d**do that was used to quickly slap an ending on the series.) The aliens will be getting far more depth in this continuity (I'll be trying to capture more of what the show was angling towards in the beginning of the series, especially S2)_ _World building was my favorite part of the show and sci-fi/fantasy franchises in general and as such my writing tends to focus on that. The other part I can give away is that the Ben-Hal-Maggie love triangle thing will not be happening (most fans I've come across couldn't stand that subplot) There may still be a ?-Hal-Maggie triangle at some point but it will not contain Ben._ _If you want clues to the direction I may take with Ben and Maggie there's some strong indications in my aborted S4 rewrite "Beyond The Reach"_ _That being said, this is a different continuity and could totally turn out differently, all of those characters may not even be alive at that point._ _All that being said, one thing I am trying to stay as true to canon as possible is with the character's personalities and their connections to each other prior to the invasion. Also going to keep with the theme of Revolutionary War parallels for this arc (something the series dispensed with later in it's run. . . We got the battle of Trenton parallel at the end of s3 but I was so wanting to see the Battle of Yorktown's space-based equivalent, sigh)_ _It's been a while since I last watched the show so I've probably forgotten quite a few things, so if you spot anything like that or have suggestions on how to better portray a character please do call me out on that. (One I can think of that I'll probably botch horribly is Matt, unlike Hal and Ben who had their own distinct personalities Matt was just "there" to me.) Another thing I am uncertain about is whether or not to have multiple independent plotlines running at the same time or if I should have separate stories for each group i.e. Tom and his family, Weaver and the military, Pope's group, Anne's group and Anthony's group as some of these groups will not end up meeting each other until after the merger point with "Our Hearts". If it doesn't slow down the story too badly I am more inclined to keep it all in one volume but am interested to see what other people's preference is. I probably will end up revising the first 4 or 5 chapters several times before I get it just the way I like it._ _I'm still moderately new at writing fanfiction with less than 6 months under my belt so this may still be a little rough to get started (and oh boy do I suck at opening chapters!) but once it gets going I am hopeful that it will improve._ _Apologies for the long intro/explanation passage here. Any questions, suggestions or comments are welcome and most appreciated._

 _Cheers!_

 ** _Update 13 Feb 2016:_** _I am starting a re-formatting of this story (along with FS: Korea and others) it will be a slow process and I will still try and manage regular updates on both stories while I am doing this._

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Chapter I: The Day the Sky Fell

4 Oct 0800 EDT

Somerville, MA, United States

"I can't believe you dragged me to school on a Saturday." Hal remarked as his girlfriend, Karen led him up the stairs by the custodian's office that went up to the roof.

"Oh hush you; if we don't go know we might miss it and who knows, we may never get to see something like this again in our lifetime." Karen replied.

She was referring to the immense alien spaceship drifting towards the Boston metro after reports started coming through the major news networks and the internet that the ships were leaving. It wasn't as if they didn't have a big mysterious object in their own backyard. There had been a silvery disc close to 700 meters in diameter hovering quietly over central Boston since sometime in August. Karen and Hal had already seen that one several times, snapped a few photos and went home. Alien spaceships were nothing incredibly new to Boston but this one was different, for one it was bigger, much bigger. Secondly the level of detail visible on the exterior of the craft was far greater than the sleek smooth silver surface of the Boston disc.

At home, with all the houses blocking the view in their neighborhood it was hard to get a clear view of the city skyline but on top of the school building, positioned on a ridge towards the outskirts of the city proper, they could see straight over the houses with a clear line of sight towards the downtown skyline on the horizon. They reached the rooftop and hurried over to the eastern edge of the building where they stood next to a large ventilation pipe while scanning the skies. They hadn't been allowed downtown after the first spaceship came down over the city due to the civil unrest that had frequently flared up once the news broke so the only glimpses either of them had seen of an alien mothership was at a distance or on TV. Karen hoped that the apparent trajectory of the new alien craft would put it directly overhead for a time allowing them an up close view of the underside of the visitors' ship. Karen was strangely giddy with excitement to witness something even larger and more impressive than the Boston mothership was. This was one of those "I was there" moments to Karen. This was a moment she could tell the grandkids, Hal's grandkids if they worked out in the long term, about. She looked over at Hal who was gazing up at the empty sky. Hal realized he was being watched and looked back at Karen and smiled, blushing a little which irked Karen into playfully shoving him for the sappy expression on his face. He stood back up and looked around.

"So where is it?" asked Hal.

"Be patient." Karen replied.

Karen took hold of Hal's hand and the two of them waited. It wouldn't be long until the visitors became manifest from their vantage point on high. Sure enough after a few minutes the ship that they had been expecting appeared coming from the southwest. Indeed Karen was right; this one was different from the plain shiny silver disc that had hovered over downtown Boston for the past month and a half. It was presumed to be one of the grand capital ships from either New York or D.C. that had begun to move away from those cities earlier in the morning. Hal and Karen had seen this ship on the news before but it was nothing compared to seeing it in person. TV despite the high definition moniker, left out several details that were clearly visible in a different fashion in person. It was an immense vessel in the shape of a perfect equilateral triangle as thick as a skyscraper that cast its shadow over the whole of Boston. Its sides were dotted with steady and flashing lights and all matter of protrusions and portals. The top was smooth flat and featureless and was colored a dark gray, almost black. On its underside were three evenly spaced hemispherical domes glowing bluish yellow on each end of the craft. Tiny structures also dotted the landscape of the underside of the triangular monstrosity. What was most curious about the vessel was that it was completely silent. The craft itself made no sound audible to the human ear, only the sounds of the air currents moving around it and blowing through the trees on the ground could be heard.

The Boston mothership, now dwarfed by its new companion moved towards it and entered into a port that had opened up on the underside of the new gargantuan vessel between the three hemispheres and disappeared into the larger ship's internals. This opening then closed up seamlessly behind the disc as it ascended into the triangular ship. The triangular craft was so large that several ships the size of the mothership could fit within its hold. Hal and Karen stood there awestruck at the sight, relieved and disappointed at the same time that the aliens were going home.

Karen had been particularly excited about the aliens ever since they arrived and frankly was let down that nothing had really happened since then. She had hoped to at least see the face of one of these otherworldly beings on the news, perhaps shaking hands with the president or vaporizing him with a death ray. Alas her curiosity received nothing more once the spacecraft were in the atmosphere. The ships just came out of the sky, launched smaller ships and sat there over cities and towns worldwide for weeks on end. The governments of the world, utilizing the best minds mankind had to offer, tried all the cliché methods of communicating with the aliens, all to no avail. The used mathematical code, world languages, binary, and so forth; they even used the flashing light trick from the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind. None of that stuff worked at all. Either the aliens were unable or unwilling to be contacted. The whole time no one, publicly or off the books within the deepest most clandestine organizations, had even seen what the creatures piloting the craft looked like, if there was even anyone piloting them at all. It had been speculation among some scientists and engineers that the ships were actually automated probes sent to gather information about distant worlds and that the real aliens may or may not be on the way. There were of course the cranks and the people who had claimed to be abducted by the aliens who came forth and made their rounds on the talk show circuit but there had been no conclusive contact between earthlings and the visitors beyond seeing the outside of their ships hulls. The drawings these people produced yielded no images that people hadn't already associated with aliens before the arrival; from mind-bending greys to lizard people to Klingons, it was all old hat.

"There's one of the big questions we can cross off our list now. Are we alone in the universe? No, check; now on to finding out the meaning of life." Hal joked as the triangular craft stopped and gathered up several other smaller vessels.

"You think they could have at least poked their heads outside and said hello." Karen said.

"They might have heard War of the Worlds and were afraid of all the nasty Earth germs here." Hal suggested.

"Spacesuits Hal, duh. They don't have to breathe our air." Karen replied.

"Besides didn't your dad say concerning disease that in reality it would be more like the European settlers and the Native Americans with us being the natives in which the colonists diseases were more deadly to the natives than vice versa. " Karen said remembering a comment Hal's dad had said one evening she had stayed for dinner with the Mason family.

"All I know is that if this is all a marketing stunt by Disney to promote some new movie a lot of people are going to be bummed out." Hal said while he and Karen watched the ship rise straight up through the clouds and into the stratosphere.

"That would be so lame. I wouldn't watch another Disney movie ever again." Karen said.

Hal looked at her with the "are you serious?" face and they both laughed. Karen paused, bit her lip and smiled.

"Maybe not ever, more like for a month." Karen confessed.

"Hey, at least we got out of school for a week before the alien spaceships were all like the new normal." Hal said optimistically.

"E.T. Go home." Hal playfully said in the voice of E.T. from the old movie "E.T." leading Karen to sock him in the chest.

Both of them sat down and looked up at the sky. Hal put his arm around Karen's shoulder and she leaned her head down on his chest and snuggled into the warmth radiating from his body in the crisp cool air of early autumn in New England. The alien vessel continued to rise straight up into the sky effortlessly accelerating away from the Earth's gravity. In no time the image of the titanic triangular craft shrank into a tiny speck and vanished from their sight. For a time it seemed the aliens had left.

4 Oct 0800 EDT

Cambridge, MA, United States

Elsewhere Hal's father, Tom Mason was in his study preparing his lecture series for the coming week. He was history professor at Cambridge university which had shut down for longer than the public schools had on account of the aliens so his classes were more than slightly behind. He also wanted to slip in some discussion on the beings from afar albeit that was more in the realm of the Science and Philosophy departments than for a class on American History. Nonetheless it was history in the making, and this time people knew it as it was happening. It former times many great men and moments might not have been recognized for their significance until times long after. Little things like the weather, a misstep here or there and just being at the right place at the right time made a world of difference. No one probably thought Sam Adams would leave the mark he did on the world not to mention a great tasting local beer named after him, back when he was just a ruffian riling up the rabble in 18th Century Boston. This time the moment didn't belong to one man, or a group of men and women, but to all mankind. This was something like the moon landing where you knew it was going to be big before it happened. Anyways, Professor Mason refocused his attention on his history lesson and less on current evens when all of the sudden the lights in his house flickered and died. The sound of passing cars on the street ceased abruptly and was replaced by the clang of a handful of fender benders as the vehicles rolled slowly to a stop. With it being morning and the sun shining outside the lights that had been left on since Tom had started his work at the crack of dawn he barely noticed the power going out. He did notice the commotion outside as people got out of their vehicles and began conversing with each other. It seemed to be a peculiar amount of activity outside for this time of day he thought. The notion that something was afoul with the situation hit home when he heard the distant sound of multiple cars smashing into each other reached his ears. He peeked out the window and looked at the people standing around next to their cars. It was a quiet residential street so there weren't too many vehicles on the street to begin with. The car crash he had heard was nowhere to be seen. It must have been pretty bad for him to hear it from the distance he presumed he was. Outside it wasn't chaos but confusion that had fallen upon his sleepy street. The people who had just been driving looked confounded after realizing that all their cell phones were dead and they couldn't call for help.

"Are you alright? Need a jump or anything?" Tom asked a balding older gentleman standing by his beige Buick.

Before he could get a response a deafening roar shook the neighborhood, jostling the houses down to their foundations. The vibrations shook Tom off his balance a little forcing him to take hold of a nearby dresser. Accompanying the sound, a pressure wave shot through the air and tremors rattled along the ground from all directions most notably the north and the southeast. It felt like an earthquake although an earthquake would be highly unusual in eastern Massachusetts. Leaves fell off the trees, some windows shattered and several of Professor Mason's books were shaken off their shelves. As the shaking continued Tom staggered back and almost fell down before the rumbling stopped. Little did he know but a heavy bombardment of meteoroids launched at relativistic velocities had slammed into the earth. Those he felt the strongest was comparatively the small impact from Camp Curtis Guild to the north that had turned that military installation into a molten hole in the ground. A larger strike which took out Joint Base Cape Cod further to the southeast also contributed its share to the rumblings in the Boston 'burbs. What Tom had felt was the residual shockwave from both of those blasts converging on his location. Other asteroids had fallen into the Atlantic and points near the coastline which generated massive tidal surges which wiped out military installations and their communities up and down the coast. The Portsmouth Naval Shipyard, Newport Naval Base and Sub Base New London were among those targets annihilated in the New England region. Fortunately Boston was not near one of the targets of these tsunami bombs. While the areas closer to those communities now looked as if hell had broken loose upon the world here in Tom's quiet neighborhood it had just given them a bit of a scare. The damage here was minor, no fires, no massive building collapses, nothing that would lead the people to realize the scale of the event that had just occurred.

Once he regained solid footing Tom left his study and immediately ran into his youngest son Matt who had been awoken by the rumbling of the house.

"Dad, what happened?" Matt asked.

"I don't know but I'm going to find out." Tom told him.

Matt followed his father down the stairs where he ran into his middle son, Ben.

"The TV went out downstairs. I swear I didn't do anything, honest." Ben said.

"I know. The power is out on the whole street. It must have been that earthquake." Tom said.

Ben joined Matt and Tom as he came down the stairs and into the dining room where he looked around for his keys. The two boys watched him curious as to what his plans were.

"I'm going to go get your mother. Where's Hal?" Tom asked the boys.

"He went with Karen earlier this morning. They were going to the high school to watch the spaceship leave." Ben answered.

Tom took a second to think it over, but only a second.

"Alright, change of plans; I'm going to go get Hal first then we're going to get your mom." Tom told the boys.

Tom then hurriedly went back upstairs to his study after finding his keys leaving Matt and Ben waiting in the dining room. He looked around the room as if he had forgotten something but his thoughts were so jumbled that he didn't quite know what he had forgotten. He snatched up the notes for his lecture, folded them up and put them in his pants pocket. "Why did I just grab those?" Tom thought to himself. Was he really going to be able to rehearse a lecture while looking for his family, of course not. Then for no apparent reason he took them out and set them back down on his desk before he grabbed his overcoat off the back of the chair, which was what he had come in here to get in the first place, and put it on. Tom then stopped on his way out and looked at an old Revolutionary War era musket hanging over an antique bookshelf in his study. It was a family heirloom passed down through the generations as long as there had been a Mason living on this continent, going all the way back to his distant relative George Mason. He began to connect the dots; an earthquake, the spaceship leaving, were they under attack? He thought about taking the gun with him for a minute. It was something of great sentimental value but it wasn't like he could fire it, he had no powder or anything to shoot out of it. In terms of utility all it would be was a walking stick or with its bayonet affixed a short spear. In his haste Tom decided against taking the musket and went downstairs to his boys and together all three of them went outside.

The neighborhood was aghast in confusion as Tom and his sons went for their car. He tried to start the car but turning the key had no effect. It didn't even click; the starter solenoid was dead Tom thought. He muttered unintelligible frustration and pounded the steering wheel.

"Looks like we're going on foot then." Tom told his sons before exiting the vehicle.

Ben and Matt followed their father out of the vehicle and onto the sidewalk where people were standing around, gathering in small groups to talk with each other. Some of them also attempted to help start each other's cars all with no success.

"You've got a handful of blown fuses down here ma'am." one man said as he checked out some of the more common problems with a blue Toyota belonging to a professional looking blonde woman.

"I think my starter is fried." another man called over to the first guy from under the hood of his silver Audi.

"The aliens engines might have messed with the power grid I heard some scientist speculate they could have operated using magnetism. That could screw with electronics right?" one man asked another.

"Maybe there was a lightning storm up there when they went to warp?" a middle aged woman suggested.

"What if their engines acted on the earth in a way that made the ground shake like that?" someone else mentioned.

"You don't actually think the government was dumb enough to nuke them as they were leaving? You know with that war monger those yahoos down south just squeaked into the White House." a thin pale elderly man in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts remarked.

It seemed like blaming the aliens for what just happened was the popular thing to do out here. All along there Tom was trying to give the visitors the benefit of the doubt. There was a general sense of insecurity among all the people here and Tom could feel it too. He now found himself actually missing the National Guard patrols that had come through near the university after a student protest got out of hand a few days following the aliens' arrival. They didn't stay long after the protest was disbanded however and for a time, until now things returned to normal. His quiet, upper-middle class neighborhood didn't have the problems with riots and looting that much of the city did following the alien arrival. It was mostly families and seniors that lived here and just about everyone knew each other so they had little to be scared of; that is except for the aliens. While the police and National Guard units were understandably in the locations that needed them the most prior to the bombardment their presence sure would have been comforting to this shaken community left largely to fend for itself.

Despite the chaos in areas less than a mile away here people still behaved like neighbors to one another. Paul Dixon, Tom's next door neighbor came outside in his robe and fuzzy slippers to see what all the commotion was about. Paul was an engineer who had moved here from Georgia ten years ago and made his living maintaining the vessels of several fishing fleets and private yachts. While his one man firm wasn't the best paying job out there it provided for him sufficiently enough to afford a modest home in this neighborhood. He and Tom were cordial with each other and knew each other well. They jokingly referred to the dividing line between their properties as the "Mason-Dixon" line though it was a line either of them was welcome to cross. Paul envied Tom's relationship with his children; all of his kids were grown up and had families of their own out of state. He saw them on Christmas and on weddings, funerals and new births but most days of the year it was just him and the Mrs. "Enjoy these days while you can, they grow up so quick." he would often tell Tom. The two of them were both avid history buffs and antique collectors, something that strengthened their bond and would have spent a few nights sharing tales of yesteryear by the fireplace.

"Any idea what in blue blazes is going on? I was reading the paper and all the sudden the whole world moves beneath me." Paul asked.

"I have no idea. It might have something to do with the aliens leaving." Tom replied.

"Damned aliens, I was right to be skeptical of those things." Dixon half-jokingly commented.

"Where's your oldest? He still inside?" asked Paul upon noticing only two of Tom's kids with him.

"He snuck off to the high school with his girlfriend. We're actually on our way to go get him." Tom replied.

"In that case don't let me hold you up." Paul said.

"Thank you. We'll come back and visit later." Tom said as he started off at a brisk walk again.

"Take care of everyone here while I'm gone." he half-jokingly turned around to Paul and said.

"I will. Now you don't be too hard on ol' Hal, remember what it was like at that age." Paul replied back to him.

Tom and his two sons continued on past their block and headed towards the school to find Hal.

4 Oct 0800 EDT

Boston MA, United States

Officer Anthony Welker reported for duty at the headquarters of the Boston PD downtown carrying in a box of Dunkin Donuts for his colleagues.

"Morning Anthony." a fellow officer greeted him as he went down the hall to drop the donuts off in the breakroom.

"Cops and Donuts, how cliché. Eat up little piggy pig pig pig." sneered a burglary suspect being booked as Anthony passed by.

"Just shut up and cooperate and we can get this over faster." one of the two officers booking the suspect instructed him after his remark.

Anthony shrugged it off; a donut joke was mild compared to the usual slurs tossed around on the streets, especially since the riots broke out. To some people the police could simply never do right by them. He had called every nasty name in the book by one dirt bag or another. He set the donuts down in the breakroom where he ran into Jeff Wu, a detective who worked in homicide, as he was getting himself a cup of coffee.

"For me Tony, aww you shouldn't have." Wu jokingly greeted him.

"Save some for the rest of the guys Jeff." Anthony playfully reminded him.

"You still working on the Delgado case?" Anthony asked Jeff as the two of them walked out of the break room referring to a case in which an older couple was killed walking home when a riot broke out during a protest over the accidental death of a teenage boy by the police who was being apprehended for petty larceny.

"Yeah, I think I have a lead on a couple possible suspects. I'd have to bring the daughter back in to get a positive ID though. She's still pretty shaken up over the whole thing and won't really talk to anyone outside Father O'Brien and you know the priest's lips are sealed." Wu answered.

"They take an oath for that shit." Anthony remarked.

"I feel sad for the girl, comes here to start college and get a taste of the American dream and some knuckleheads gotta go and do this." Anthony lamented.

"Yeah, the spaceship flying around seems to have given everyone with an axe to grind reason to burn the city down. We can't be everywhere and they know it." Wu remarked.

"People were doing this kind of stupid stuff before the spacemen came. Knuckleheads get involved with a legit peaceful protest and think they can get away with jacking stuff up because there is a crowd." Anthony said.

"In this case they think they can literally get away with murder." Wu added.

"Heck some folks do it when their team wins the championship." Anthony said.

"Tell me about it, I expect that kind of nonsense from L.A or Chicago but I thought we were a little more cool headed up here in Bean town." Wu remarked.

"I always found that ridiculous. So you're going to light stuff on fire and roll over cars when their team wins? It would make more sense if they were sore losers and did that, but winners?" Wu said.

"Crazy times we live in, crazy times." Anthony said.

"Catch you around later bro." Anthony continued as the two of them parted paths in the hall and went about their business.

Anthony sat down next to one of his best friends as Chief Matthew Kelly was about to go over the duty assignments for the oncoming shift of street level officers.

"I hear the ETs are moving off this morning. I caught footage this morning of the ship over Chicago before I left the house." his friend Reginald "Click" Johnson told him.

Click was a plain clothes officer who worked the beat with Anthony several times on undercover drug busts.

"You know what that means?" Click continued.

"All these knuckleheads can stop with blaming the aliens for them acting the fool and go back to living their lives the way they used to." Anthony answered optimistically assuming that once the external problem was removed people would mellow the heck out.

Click laughed and he and Anthony bumped fists and smiled. Click was accustomed to working deep cover. He was the one who got in with the gangs, dealers and pimps and tipped off the officers like Anthony who actually made the arrest, that way Click never blew his cover and could operate frequently in many of the same neighborhoods. He was given the nickname "Click" because of the way he could click with the folks in many of these inner city crime ridden neighborhoods, something that was a huge boon to the department due to the natural distrust of the authorities that was prevalent in these neighborhoods. Before the arrival the two of them worked often together and had been friends for a long time. Today however, wasn't business as usual, Anthony was in uniform while Click remained as the sole officer present in civilian clothes. Since the aliens showed up enforcement on drug crimes was relaxed due to a reassessment of the department's priorities. Now they needed every available officer out to keep the peace after the city was shocked by three or four violent flare ups. For the most part the Boston riots and many of those around the country had absolutely nothing to do with the aliens. Yes, they had started shortly after the spaceships appeared in the skies over the cities but quickly morphed into something entirely different. There were a few yahoos out there demanding the government disclose the "truth" about aliens and some religious fanatics who had cast off their faith in rage on account of the aliens but the majority of the disorder came from one radical group or another seeking to capitalize on the moment to draw attention to their cause. These fringe groups' aims and agendas along with the intensity of the incidents varied largely depending on the region of the country. In Boston it was the extreme environmentalists, animal rights activists, race-based street agitators, internationalists, the revolutionary Trotskyites and others that were stirring the pot. Elsewhere in the country other groups spearheaded these movements; skinheads in Ohio, secessionist anti-government types in the Carolinas, and Anarchists/Anarcho-Communists up and down the west coast. This was just the beginning; the politically motivated riots were the least of most law enforcement departments concerns. It was what came after that was the real concern. Regardless of who initiated it the result was frequently the same. As always these typically small incidents swelled when the street urchins, gangs and criminal elements got involved and therein was where most of the damage occurred. Several unconfirmed terrorist attacks had also been attempted in the chaos. There wasn't one opportunistic asshole that didn't see the fear and disorder wrought by the extraterrestrials' arrival as an open invitation to let loose. These initial riots and the responses to them spurned other unrelated incidents such as the massive flare up which Anthony and Jeff were discussing earlier. The Jamaica Plains riot as it was being called for now, came as quite a surprise for the department as the city had been calm for quite some time before it happened. If not for that one incident the thought of civil unrest might have faded from the Boston PD's mind altogether by now. So much for business as usual, thought Anthony when it occurred.

With the memory of the Boston Marathon bombing still fresh in the mind of the law enforcement community there the response in Boston was swift and measured. As a result the city fared better than many others such as Los Angeles, Minsk and Caracas which literally burned themselves to the ground. Still other places like Wellington, New Zealand were completely unaffected by terrestrial violence. The activation of the Massachusetts National Guard and the situation on the ground becoming tepid in the past couple weeks allowed some of the officers to start working other cases but largely the Boston PD was still devoted to ensuring the citizens felt secure in their city and didn't panic just because of the mysterious visitors looming overhead.

As Anthony and Click listened to the Chief going over their patrol routes and assignments for the morning the lights flickered once and died. The bulbs all burnt out at once and several of them even burst. Startled conversations broke out among the officers but were quickly silenced by their superiors.

"Everyone remain seated the backup generators should be coming online shortly." the Chief assured the officers.

Only moments later a sound like thunder only a thousand times stronger accompanied a shockwave that shock the police headquarters to its very foundation. Some of the officers fell over, others clung to their chairs. Files, papers, pens, office supplies and folders fell down. A man being brought in for questioning used the commotion to attempt to run away. A pair of officers gave chase and went after the suspect who plowed through another officer on uneasy footing before bolting out the door. Anthony slipped off his chair and fell into Click's lap, who was already on the floor. The two men helped each other up in the darkened room, lit only by the light shining in through the small windows high above the floor. Across the room there still was a commotion as the officers regained their composure.

"Not the coffee! Take me but leave the coffee! No!" shouted an officer as he watched a mug full of freshly brewed black coffee, with not a drop of cream or sugar in it, fall from a desk to the ground and shatter.

"Everyone outside on the double!" the Chief ordered and the officers quickly evacuated the building in an orderly fashion.

Outside there appeared to be little structural damage to the police HQ and surrounding government buildings and offices. A few windows on the higher floors of some of the larger buildings nearby were shattered but overall the city was intact. What was unusual is that the busy streets and highways packed with cars had been seemingly frozen in place. Rear end accidents and fender benders were commonplace as nearly all the vehicles on the road had shut down suddenly. A handful of rather severe accidents had piled up in some places and a vehicle fire burned far off in the distance. Anthony noted a man getting out of a car and walking towards another man that came out of the vehicle that rear ended him. The second man tried to apologize to the first man but in rage the first man came to blows over the damage to his new Jaguar, instigating a fight. It was a foolish move considering they were right in front of a police station.

"Stop! Police!" Anthony shouted but he was beat to the punch by another officer running off to break up the fight.

Other people getting out of their cars were more cordial with each other while still others got into shouting matches. Overall the sense of fear and anxiety that had fallen over the crowd exacerbated the situation. There was a dreadful sense of anticipation in the air. Both the officers and general public alike could feel it. Tensions were reaching their limit, the city like a pot of water just about to boil.

"Good lord what just happened?" muttered the chief.

After pulling aside a handful of officers to guard the headquarters and finish processing the prisoners in their holding cells another officer handed the chief a bullhorn and he got on top of the steps outside the department HQ to address the officers.

"All of you not working on the generators or in dispatch are to assist with disaster recovery. There are a lot of frightened people out there that need our help. Now get to it!" the chief ordered them.

The officers dispersed and went to assisting the citizenry starting with those nearby. They stopped and checked with each individual and made sure they were ok. If they required medical assistance they pledged to send for help, if not they asked about family and loved ones and promised to help them in any way they could. Any incidents of violence were broken up and quelled. The aggressors were bound with heavy duty zip ties and left on the sidewalk to simmer down if they remained belligerent after being restrained. Vandals, thieves and looters that were encountered were dispersed but not pursued or arrested. Those who pulled weapons or attempted to assault the officers were arrested brought back to the station to be held until the crisis was over and charges could be formally assessed. With no knowledge of exactly what happened there was no need to evacuate the population anywhere at the moment.

"The radio is dead Chief." one of the officers nearby reported after leaning into a police car.

The chief took out a handheld radio and all he got was a squelching sound, something was interrupting the signal. "Damn it! We'll have to do this the old fashioned way." the chief complained.

Meanwhile Anthony, Jeff and Click went off together as a unit in performance of their job duties. They helped an old lady out of her car and calmed her down, leaving her with a group of friendly individuals gathered on the sidewalk. Two of the men in the group were playing with their cell phones trying to get them to turn on.

"Can you call my Doctor? I'm having trouble breathing." the old lady asked Anthony.

"We don't have way of calling for help either, our phones are no good same as anyone else's but we're heading to the closest hospital and will be sending help immediately. Please try to relax and take deep breaths." Anthony calmly instructed the woman.

The three officers continued on, helping those who needed it along their way to find the nearest hospital.

"Trains have stopped too, we won't be getting anywhere fast." Anthony noted.

"Mass General isn't too far from here. We could still manage to get there and bring folks back in time to help that old lady." suggested Click.

"Lead the way brother." Anthony replied.

"I will, I will, we just gotta get around all these cars." Click said.

As the three of them walked through downtown Boston tending to the fears and concerns of the populace trapped by the sudden loss of power and locomotion a swarm of alien fighter craft dropped down out of the sky. The ships spread out after reaching a certain altitude over the city and soared over the immobilized citizens, terrifying an already shaken populace. The simmering nerves of the city's citizens had now flashed to superheated steam in an instant. The mob broke and ran in all directions. Like a tsunami of human flesh the crowd pushed through the cars and swallowed up any who were not fast enough to stay ahead of them, knocking down and trampling several people in a desperate attempt to flee.

"Looks like ET didn't go home after all." Anthony commented.

Before Click could reply with a witty remark one of the fighters launched some sort of projectile towards the ground some distance to the southeast of the police station. A bright flash lit up the sky followed by a pillar of fire that bloomed into a small scale mushroom cloud.

"They took out the port!" Anthony exclaimed.

The three of them went from a walk to a run ahead of an onrushing tide of civilians at their backs fleeing from the blast.

"That was where the Army had set up the overflow detention center right?" asked Jeff as they ran from the expanding fireball past the skyline behind them.

"Yeah, and the relief supplies were being stored there." Anthony answered.

It was a good thing that all three of them were in good shape and able to keep up a sustained sprint because those who lagged behind and were too slow were being pushed aside and trampled. Fear had overwhelmed the better judgement of the crowd. Men and women were but animals now, stripped down to their most basic instinct, the will to survive. A succession of smaller blasts took out bridges and overpasses to the north and northwest, further isolating the fleeing throng of humanity.

"Are we still going to Mass General?" asked Jeff.

"Forget that, we're just getting the heck out of here!" Anthony declared as the three of them turned down a street to the south hoping that they would not be completely trapped.

Another blast took out the last bridge to the northeast turning more of the panicked crowds in the direction that Anthony and his companions were running in.

"If we can get past the I-90 underpass and get on the 9 we can get out of this fishbowl into the southwestern 'burbs." Click suggested.

"I'm with Click. Move it or lose it Jeffy." Anthony concurred.

Anthony and Click took off at a faster pace leaving Jeff struggling to keep up a few yards behind them. As they ran for their lives all across the Boston metro and beyond the cloud of alien fighters began a surgical bombing campaign. A multitude of explosions peppered the city throughout. The largest of these blasts came from east Boston, behind the area which the aliens had sealed off from the rest of the city. The entire district was consumed in a nuclear fireball, irradiating and consuming all the poor souls who were trapped within it. The police station which Anthony and company had left was in the shadow of that blast as its deadly effects spread through east and south Boston, devouring what was left of the port as well as Logan International Airport. As Anthony's group passed near Historic Fenway Park and got onto the route they hoped would lead them away from the destruction they knew there was no going back.

4 Oct 0800 EDT

Concord, MA, United States

It was breakfast time for the general population at Massachusetts Correctional Institution Concord. One of the inmates, John Pope, a long haired scruffy individual doing time for 2nd degree murder was in charge of cooking for his fellow prisoners. "What is it this time Cheffie, eggs a la Pope?" asked one of the inmates. "Mind your manners cueball or you'll be eating the powdered slop that the last guy made you." Pope snidely commented. "What you are looking at here gentlemen is one mean Denver omelet. Given the most meager ingredients at my disposal you should find it quite delectable." Pope told the inmates as he fixed each of them a plate as they passed by. "He's right, this beast will rock your whole mouth." one of the inmates seated near the serving line shouted out. "I appreciate the compliment Whitey but next time could you say something that is not a line from a Fruity Pebbles commercial." Pope mockingly joked back. "Your cooking always gives me gas." remarked Epifanio Lopez, another inmate doing a 5 year stint for manslaughter and resisting arrest. "I thought you Mexicans were supposed to like spicy stuff?" commented Pope. "I told you already I'm not Mexican, I'm Puerto Rican." Lopez corrected him. "Whatever, Mexicano, Cubano, Puerto Rican-oh all the same thing. Don't get your green card in a wad." Pope mocked him in his usual manner. "Puerto Ricans don't need green cards you douche! We're US citizens." snapped Lopez. Pope rolled his eyes as Lopez went down the line to pick up a milk carton and Pope went on to serving the next inmate. After he was done Pope fixed himself a plate and sat down next to his crew. "So how is it that Billy is still a free man while you're locked up in this joint." asked an inmate who knew both Pope and his brother from the outside several years ago. "Because you can get a girl to shut her trap a lot easier than you can dispose of a body in plain view. Any more dumbass questions?" Pope replied. The lights then went off and the ventilation fans stopped running. The prison cafeteria went from mildly comfortable to dark, stinky and warm real quick. "Yeah, I got one. Who turned out the lights?" asked Cueball. "Damn it Lopez did you just pass gas?" Pope asked. "No." replied Lopez from out of the darkness. The prison's backup generators did not start up as they were intended to so the prisoners were left in total darkness until the guards with flashlights arrived. In the meantime a few prisoners had thrown some blind punches, copped a feel and stole food off another inmate's plate under cover of darkness. The prison then vibrated and shook causing several trays to fall onto the floor. "Lopez, you did fart!" Pope exclaimed when the rumbling was over. Little did the prisoners know that what was a mild tremor to them was the dawn of the apocalypse outside.

4 Oct 0814 EDT

Woburn, MA, United States

An Army Reserve MRAP was heading northbound I-95 on ahead of an M113 APC. Inside the APC Captain Daniel Weaver was coordinating with his unit commander back at Camp Curtis Guild. Captain Weaver was a recently retired Army officer that due to first contact with alien life worldwide was immediately activated on his reserve commitment following his retirement from active duty. Being called up to duty again wasn't disagreeable with Weaver, without the Army honestly he wouldn't have known what to do with himself. He was a career soldier serving as an enlisted man in the first Gulf War and as an officer in the 2003 invasion of Iraq. The benefit of being a reservist with such an extensive career of service behind him was that he was not deployed to some foreign theater but rather stationed at home. His request of duty station to New England allowed him to once again be close to his estranged daughters who lived with his ex-wife in Boston though he hadn't got to see much of them because of the strained relationship with his former spouse and the crisis going on in the city. "We're about five miles out sir; we should be back to base soon." Weaver reported over the radio.

As the military vehicles came within sight of the 128 overpass all the cars around them abruptly shut down and stalled on the road. The army vehicles slammed on their brakes and narrowly avoided a collision. "Correction, we'll be delayed. All the traffic has come to a complete halt." Weaver said over the radio to no response. "General Tennant? Brigadier General Tennant come in? Are you there sir?" Weaver repeatedly asked over the radio. After a minute or so of silence Weaver gave up and hung up the receiver. "Communications are shot." he grumbled. "Can we still move?" Weaver asked the driver. "We're fine sir but we can't go anywhere with all the cars broke down out there." replied SGT Healey. Weaver climbed towards the driver's seat and looked out the front window at the scene ahead of them. As some of the people outside got out of their vehicles to examine the situation a faint red streak of light came down in the east. It hit the ground with a flash of light brighter than ten thousand suns. A shockwave preceded the thunderous boom of the impact and leveled multitudes of structures ahead of the military vehicles to the west. The people standing around outside were knocked to the ground or tossed backwards with tremendous force. The cars on the overpass were knocked off by the blast wave and fell onto the vehicles down below. Glass shattered and some of those smaller vehicles not pinned down by falling cars from the overpass were picked up and flipped over backwards. The larger cars that were not lifted up by the shockwave were slid back into other vehicles causing a massive crumpled mass of traffic that pinned everyone in place. A pickup truck launched from the overpass collided with the MRAP ahead of the APC. When it hit a rear tire was severed from the truck and flew backwards and bounced off the side of the APC near the roof. Weaver and Sgt. Healey ducked down instinctively as the flying storm of debris from the vehicles and structures further out battered against the armored hull of their vehicle.

When the rattling and shaking subsided outside Weaver stood up and gazed out the window upon the destruction. While the cars looked to be a mangled mess they were at the edge of devastation, most of the buildings nearby were still standing with only minor damage. He was concerned about the crew of the MRAP after it was struck by that truck. "Let's go check out the MRAP Sergeant, make sure our boys are alright." Weaver instructed the driver and the other soldiers inside the APC. They climbed out the top hatch and descended down the pinned in and overturned vehicles around them. The soldiers checked for survivors and began working to free those who were still alive and trapped in their vehicles. Weaver stood on top of the APC with Healey surveying the damage and collecting his composure before setting off towards the MRAP.

"I'd wager that blast came from Camp Curtis Guild. Remember what I've been saying all along. I was right; the god damned aliens are attacking." Weaver stated judging by the direction the shockwave had come from. "That doesn't make sense. I felt nothing coming from the west, if they hit Curtis why didn't they take out Hanscom?" asked Sgt. Healey. "Hanscom is practically deserted since the Guard deployed in Boston. Aliens probably assumed it was a civilian airport." Weaver postulated. Though Camp Curtis Guild was a small training installation it had swelled in numbers when a large contingent of the Army Reserves had been relocated there for a rapid response to the crisis in Boston should it have exceeded the Massachusetts National Guard's ability to contain. These additional forces would have made it appear to an outside observer to be the more significant of the two small installations within close range of Boston. The two of them made their way to the MRAP and helped its crew get out into the open. Fortunately aside from a couple scrapes and bumps the crew was alright. Weaver then directed the other soldiers to aid the trapped motorists before he himself started to assist in their efforts. The wounded were gathered together on the south side of the interstate while the survivors who were largely unscathed joined in with the rescue efforts. "You two, go find help. These people need medical attention. We'll need to relocate the wounded into a more open area for when help arrives." Weaver instructed a pair of his soldiers who helped some of the wounded up and began heading towards the nearest onramp to the south. The wounded were being relocated to a Walgreens pharmacy where the unit's medic tended to them with supplies from the pharmacy while the other two soldiers went on seeking emergency personnel to assist them. As the ongoing rescue effort continued Weaver turned to the south at the sound of multiple thunderous echoes booming in the distance. There he saw a squadron of alien fighters twinkling like fireflies in the morning sky, darkened by the cloud of dust and ash drifting overhead from the remains of Camp Curtis Guild. The second wave of the invasion had begun.


	2. Chapter 2: Friends and Family

Chapter II: Friends and Family

4 Oct 0833 EDT

Cambridge, MA, United States

At the sound of the first blast Tom and his sons went from a hasty walk into a run towards the school where they expected Hal and Karen to be. They hadn't gone but four blocks when Ben had to stop to catch his breath. Tom slowed down and ran back to his son who was wheezing and gasping for air. Matt kept going until he realized his father wasn't with him anymore, and then he turned around and looked back at him and Ben. "What about Hal, Dad?" he asked Tom innocently enough. "We forgot Ben's inhaler back at the house." Tom told Matt and then went back to attend to his older child. "Relax Ben, deep breaths, one, two, three, now exhale. Breathe in, One, two, three and out." Tom said calmly trying to coax Ben out of an asthma attack. Despite the deafening roar of a new explosion to the southeast Tom tried hard to give Ben the appearance that he was perfectly calm, that he had everything figured out and that all was going to be ok. Matt on the other hand was frightened and grew more scared when he saw other people running for their lives opposite the direction that they were headed. He worried about Hal; the high school wasn't far from where he had heard the latest explosion. What about his mom, she was at a hospital doing volunteer work when all this began. Yes it was the other direction away from the explosions but Matt was still scared something might have happened to her. Not quite grasping the delicate nature of the situation with Ben, Matt was getting impatient as children often do, only this time his anxiety was well founded. "Easy now Ben, everything is going to be all right. We've got to go on and get Hal ok? We'll walk the rest of the way so you can keep up, just stay calm and think positive. We'll grab your inhaler on the way back to get Mom ok?" Tom told Ben looking him straight in the eyes with a sincere and caring expression after Ben had regained control of his breathing. Ben nodded, still too out of breath to speak. "You going to be ok?" Tom asked. Again Ben nodded yes. "Alright Matt, thanks for keeping a sharp lookout for us son. We're walking the rest of the way, lead on but stay close to us ok?" Tom told Matt who walked off ahead of them, going a little too fast for him and Ben to keep up with. Tom knew he couldn't ease Matt's fears until he saw the rest of the family safe and sound with his own eyes. So long as he could keep his eyes on his youngest boy he would be fine, and Matt knew enough not to run so far ahead that his father could not see him.

Hal and Karen had sought refuge inside the school once the bombardment had begun. When Matt ran into the school building he found both of them huddled together inside in the janitor's closet. Had he been older and the situation been more normal he would have suspected the two being in the middle of making out. Instead they were clutching onto each other for comfort and hoping that the building wouldn't collapse on top of them. The halls of the school were dark and full of long shadows broken by bars of light coming in through the shattered windows. "Dad! I found them! They're over here!" Matt called over to Tom and Ben who were searching another part of the deserted school. "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes little guy." Hal said standing up and jostling Matt's hair around. "You two all right?" Matt asked. "Never been better kid. We were just riding this storm out till you got here. You see, you're late to the party." Hal confidently answered his little brother. Hal seemed to be unfazed by recent events instead presenting himself as a rock of strength for Karen, who by herself was rather fearless as well. While little Matt might have been fooled Ben knew better; he knew it was all an act. Hal's ability to exude confidence and pretend that nothing got to him was why, in Ben's mind, he was the one that got all the girls. Ben, a sickly young teen who was mostly known for nerding out over superheroes and Harry Potter, and wore prescription glasses inspired by the latter, wasn't the type of guy most high school girls went for. He envied Hal for his strength, both mental and physical and wished he wasn't the one trembling with fear every time he heard a "boom" outside. He also wished he could run a mile in under eight minutes, or even finish running a mile without his asthma acting up on him. The contrast between the two boys often led to conflict but this time they both were happy to see each other. "Hey Benny boy, how you holding up over there?" Hal asked him as he and Karen came out to find him and Tom heading there way. "Worried about you, you dumb jock." Ben joked. "No need to worry, we're fine and dandy four eyes." Hal playfully mocked him back. "Alright you two, no more name calling we've got to get back out there and find your mom." Tom told the boys before leading his sons outside.

4 Oct 0849 EDT

Cambridge MA, United States

Rebecca Mason and the other volunteers helped the hospital staff at Mt. Auburn Hospital bring in the scores of injured people that had arrived among the people fleeing westward. They had come to participate in a benefit for cancer research and most of them were not medically trained. Still they did what they could, helping patients in the door, getting them processed, seen and treated by whomever they needed to see. Most of them were minor injuries at first, a sprained ankle, bruised knees and elbows, panic attacks and the like. These people many of the volunteers could tend to with basic first aid given the required supplies from the hospital. When the people that were closer to the blast sites arrived so did the more severe injuries, burns, bone fractures, acute radiation sickness, possible concussions and wounds from flying shrapnel. These people had to go directly to the hospital staff. The emergency room soon became overwhelmed. Most of the hospital staff remained on site to treat those that came in, not just those in the emergency department but physicians, nurses and nursing assistants from all wards came down to the ER to deal with the rising tide of wounded men, women and children fleeing the carnage downtown. Among these people were Dr. Michael Harris, a surgeon and friend to Rebecca and Dr. Anne Glass, a pediatrician who for now had plenty of children among the wounded to tend to. "Rebecca? What are you doing down here? Please tell me you are alright?" asked Dr. Harris when he saw Mrs. Mason kneeling down and applying bandages to the scuffed up knees of a ten year old boy. "I'm fine Dr. Harris. I was here for the cancer benefit run when everything just got crazy all of the sudden." Rebecca explained. "Notice the pink running shoes?" she added drawing attention to her footwear. Dr. Harris was one of the physicians on the team that treated Rebecca during her bout with breast cancer some time ago performing exploratory surgery and excising a tumor from her left breast before she began her chemotherapy. "Well thank heavens you are all right, I can't lose a former patient we all fought so hard for so early on. Why that tarnishes my reputation after all." Dr. Harris replied half joking. "You should probably get back to your family though. I'd imagine old Tom is worried sick about you. We doctors can handle it from here." Harris told Rebecca. She didn't know if it was out of concern or a slight that he said these things but took them in a positive light nonetheless. "Tom knows I'm here and probably is headed this way to find me so it's probably best that I remain here until he arrives." Rebecca replied. "I see your point. In that case take two of these." Dr. Harris said, reaching into his lab coat and removing a bottle of pills. He popped the cap open and handed Rebecca two of the large horse pills inside. "What are these?" she asked. "Potassium Iodide. We're assuming that those blasts are equivalent to small tactical nuclear weapons. We've already got some patients complaining of symptoms that would suggest a massive acute dose of both gamma and neutron radiation." he answered. Rebecca walked over to one of the coolers outside that had been set up for the run later today and took out a bottle of Gatorade, opened it and swallowed the pills.

Inside the hospital Dr. Glass stumbled through the darkened hallways where she bumped into Lourdes Delgado, a pre-med student that had come here from one of the nearby colleges to observe for one of her classes that she had started in the fall. Anne was moving with such haste that she knocked Lourdes to the ground. "I am so sorry miss." Anne apologized as she bent over and helped Lourdes back to her feet. "It's alright ma'am. It's so dark in here I'm surprised anyone can see where they are going." Lourdes replied. "Definitely, you'd think they would have the generator running by now." Anne added. "Yeah, and by the way ma'am if it's not too much trouble, one of the doctors told me to move the patient out of room 23C do you by any chance know where that is?" asked Lourdes. "Yes. It's down that hall over there four doors down to the left." Anne directed her. "Thank you." Lourdes said with a smile as she and Anne parted. She seems awfully chipper given the situation Anne thought to herself as she made her way back to the ER were a veritable flood of patients were waiting for her.

Tom reached the hospital and found Rebecca outside tending to the ever growing number of patients as explosions continued to rattle the earth from both the north and the south. Tom ran ahead of his sons and gave Rebecca a firm hug, lifting her off the ground slightly in his embrace. "Dad, get a room." Hal snickered at his father as he came up behind him. Ben and Matt followed a short distance behind. Rebecca and Tom broke their embrace without the intended kiss of affection as not to embarrass their boys. "Tom, make sure you and the boys take these." Rebecca said after kneeling down and picking up a bottle of potassium iodide tablets that she had been tasked with handing out. She counted out enough for each of them and handed them out, starting with Tom, then Ben, Matt and Hal. "Mom these taste totally gross." said Matt as he cringed from the bitter taste in his mouth as he chewed up and swallowed the pills. "That's because you're not supposed to chew them genius." Hal ridiculed his little brother. "He's a little kid, he doesn't know better." Ben said in Matt's defense. "Hey! I'm not that little! I'm going to be 8 next summer, that's not a baby." Matt protested. ". . .and I turned 14 exactly two weeks ago." Ben said to his little brother. "Your point?" Matt asked. "My point is that I'm twice as old as you so that makes you a little baby to me." Ben playfully teased Matt. "Dad! Tell Ben I'm not a baby!" Matt called out to his father for backup. "Ben, Matt isn't a baby." Tom laughed. His kids, fighting as always almost made him forget that the world was falling apart around them.

Tom's brief moment of peace was torn asunder by the arrival of Dr. Harris. "Tom, good to see you again." Dr. Harris greeted him with a handshake. "Likewise Doctor." Tom said. "I'd hate to be so abrupt with you but as you can see my skills are in high demand right now so I'll get to the point. We're filling up fast here, not to mention we are awfully close to those nukes with a limited supply of iodine tablets" Dr. Harris explained. "What I would ask you fine gentlemen is if you could do us a huge favor and escort some of our patients to the hospital in Framingham, it's further away and I haven't seen or heard any explosions coming from the west. I would presume to believe it's safer out there further from the city center." Dr. Harris continued. "I'd be glad to help doctor." Tom accepted the task. "Why thank you Tom. We're getting together all the patients who can walk and those whom they can carry together and will be sending for you shortly." Dr. Harris told Tom. "We'll be here. Oh and doctor, do you mind if we grab a couple extra inhalers with Ben's medication before we go?" Tom asked. "Sure, help yourself." Dr. Harris answered and then hastily went back inside the hospital. Tom followed him and went off to claim Ben's medication. Another massive explosion out towards Logan airport dwarfed all the previous explosions. The aliens had just sterilized most of central Boston with that blast. Looking back at the billowing pillar of fire rising into the sky Tom, well versed in the tactics of warfare knew what was going on, the aliens were softening themselves a landing zone. In his estimation, assuming the alien weapons were analogous to neutron bombs by the magnitude of their detonations and the limited structural damage they caused to the skyline and also assuming that alien physiology was similar to humans, they had between 24-72 hours before radiation levels would have sufficiently subsided to allow the extraterrestrials to land ground forces downtown. He hoped that he would have enough time to get his family far enough away by the time that happened so that he at least would have a chance to protect them.


	3. Chapter 3: Tactical Retreat

Chapter III: Tactical Retreat

4 Oct 0901 EDT

Woburn, MA, United States

Weaver and his men continued to assist the stranded motorists trapped with them on the highway. The injured were sent or carried away to get help and the others helped the soldiers with their task. Once they finished damage control Weaver intended to lead an orderly evacuation out of here. To where, he did not know but presumably Hanscom AFB would be the safest place he presumed.

His plans were torn to shreds when two beamers roared overhead travelling at low altitude towards the west. "They're heading towards Hanscom. Damn it! There goes that idea." Weaver grumbled. "Sergeant Healey, try to raise Hanscom on the radio. Tell them they've got incoming." Weaver ordered. "Yes sir." Healey replied as he raced back to the APC and got on the radio. He was transmitting though he couldn't tell if they were receiving.

4 Oct 0838 EDT

Massachusetts National Guard HQ

Hanscom AFB, Bedford, MA, United States

The sirens blared as soldiers and airmen scrambled across the runways and between the hangars at Hanscom field, a joint civilian and military airport attached to the Mass. National Guard Headquarters at Hanscom Air Force Base. While power had been lost the hand cranks for the sirens still served to raise the alarm. A commercial jet had angled its nose too far down during landing when the alien EMP-style weapon fried the avionics and crashed onto one of the runways. Several soldiers and emergency personnel were working on putting out the flames from the crash and getting the survivors to safety. The smoke rising from the wrecks of a number of other downed planes could be seen in the open fields and townships to the west and east of the airfield. Further to the east and southeast greater pillars of black smoke flowed upwards and formed an umbrella stretching outwards from the Boston metro which blocked out the sun. Other airmen and pilots hurriedly moved between the disabled military planes within the hangars and attempted to get them airworthy.

"Someone please tell me we can get at least one of those planes airborne!" shouted Major General Franklin Marionetti as he entered one of the Air Force hangars. "I could tell you that sir but it would be a lie." replied 1st Lt. Nancy Keating. "Nothing modern is working for jack on this base." she continued as she ran between one plane to the next within the hangar. "These jets look like they took a lightning strike from within the cockpit, all the high tech systems are completely gone." one of the enlisted personnel working on one of the handful of F-15 fighter jets transferred from the 104th Fighter Wing following the arrival of the aliens in an effort to disperse military assets between smaller installations around the country in case the visitors became hostile. The General turned around and looked outside of the hangar into the western sky. He saw the contrails of long range missiles that had been fired from some distant undisclosed location. He walked outside and looked straight up to see bright spherical flashes, the shape of a nuclear warhead detonating in a vacuum, spotting the sky at a great distance about him. "Good. I hope we got those bastards." General Marionetti grumbled, hoping the ICBMs had taken out the alien ships in orbit. He walked south past the hangars while his men continued to tear apart the small group of fighters they had. He looked to the east and saw the explosions on the ground and the flickering blue dots of the alien fighters in the distance. A barrage of rocket fire sprang up from the ground at a point on the horizon and flew harmlessly past a pair of alien fighters performing twists and turns at such speeds that would have easily blacked out a human pilot. He then saw several other fighters to the northeast drawing closer but pulling to the north and south to attack undetermined positions on the ground. The enemy was getting closer; even if they avoided getting hit with an asteroid in the first wave when the fighters came close they would be stupid not to hit this place hard while the military was in disarray. Marionetti hurriedly walked back into the hangar. "If you can't get these birds airborne in the next ten minutes forget the planes! I need guns on the rooftops now! We're going to have inbound!" the General ordered.

Elsewhere on post Colonel Jim Porter, an army veteran who had retired straight into active duty like Weaver did, was the second in command of the reserve forces in eastern Massachusetts under Brigadier General Tennant and the leader of the units assigned to Hanscom. While Weaver did not serve directly under him now the two hardened war veterans did have some history together when the former 2nd Lieutenant Weaver served under him during the 2003 invasion of Baghdad as well as in multiple tours during the insurgency that followed. With the Brigadier General's fate uncertain sole responsibility for what remained of the Army here rested with Porter. The 181st Infantry Regiment, part of the Massachusetts National Guard, which was dispersed throughout eastern Massachusetts, also reported to him following the loss of their chain of command. Amidst the sound of distant rocket fire and the continuing alien bombing campaign Colonel Porter ran downstairs into the sub-level of a concrete and steel building. "Have we been able to raise Cape Cod?" Porter asked. "Negative sir." one of the soldiers at the radio console reported. "What about Barnes? DC? Groton? What about our units inside Boston?" Porter asked hoping that they had made contact with someone off base. "We've got nothing on the radio sir, even the emergency radios. It's not just the grid that's down, something is jamming all our signals." the radioman reported. "Blast it. We're sitting out by ourselves with no idea what is going on out there." Porter complained. "That part is fairly obvious sir. We're under attack by the ships that we thought were leaving." Captain Jameson, the commander of C-Company of the 181st Infantry Regiment, said as he came down the stairs. "I meant beyond that. It would be nice to have some up to the minute knowledge of the tactical situation on the ground." Porter grumbled. "Let's go Captain. We have to assume the enemy is going to bring the fight to us here real soon." Porter told Jameson bidding him to follow his lead back to the surface.

"Get the anti-aircraft guns set up over there!" shouted a soldier directing a group of men as Porter and Jameson came out from the communications bunker. As those soldiers set up the guns in preparation for an aerial assault another soldier ran up to Porter and greeted him with a salute. "At ease soldier." Porter said to him. "Colonel, sir! The old deuce and a halves still run." the soldier reported, panting from running to find the Colonel. "At least we have something that still works." Porter said. He then turned to a junior officer standing by a couple of Humvees nine or ten yards away. "Lt. Clayton, load as many weapons on the trucks as you can and relocate to Concord." Porter instructed him. "I want you to round up the men and go with him. We're operating with a skeleton crew here and there is no way we can stand up to an attack when the ships come. " Porter instructed Jameson. "Find us a good place to dig in. The less it looks like a military base the less of a target we will be. I'll catch up with you as soon as I give General Marionetti the heads up." Porter informed him. Jameson and Clayton began evacuating all non-essential personnel and loading armaments onto the functional vehicles leaving only a handful of men to operate the anti-aircraft batteries along with a few with rocket launchers to hold the base during their retreat.

Jameson started going around and rounding up the soldiers and airmen on post and sending them towards the trucks. He looked over at the airfield as he passed by and noticed the crews still there recovering survivors, tending to the wounded and putting out the flames. Jameson stopped one of the airmen, Technical Sergeant Sara Blackburn, and pulled her aside. "Head over to the plane crash and tell all crews once they have recovered the passengers to abandon their efforts and retreat to Concord. While they are doing that I need you to take all the civilians to those two trucks over there, and hurry!" Jameson instructed her. "Yes sir." she replied and ran off towards the group of civilians clustered together at a distance from the airliner's wreck.

While the evacuation was underway a pair of beamers were sighted on the horizon coming straight for them. Lt. Clayton had just departed on the first truck out, followed by a truckload of soldiers. Porter and Marionetti had emerged from the hangar together with airmen and civilian workers running past them on both sides as if they were large stones in the middle of a raging river. Double time people, get to the trucks!" Marionetti shouted towards those walking away from the crash site while he clapped his hands together three times. Many of the civilians picked up the pace, breaking into a run while soldiers and other workers raced over to help those who were injured get to the trucks. Captain Jameson was at the back of one of the trucks loading it with weaponry and directing people to board two other trucks to his left. When he saw Porter and Marionetti coming towards him he ran over towards them. "Here they come!" a lookout shouted down to him from atop the control tower as he passed by, warning him of the impending attack. The sirens stopped, gave three distinct pulses then were silenced as their operators armed themselves and got into position to defend the base. Jameson diverged from his path towards the base leadership and picked up a rocket launcher from among several leaning up against the side of the control tower. "Forget the weapons! Everyone on the trucks now!" Porter ordered the soldiers that were carrying guns and ordinance from the arsenal to the vehicles. The soldiers made this their last trip and soon boarded the trucks themselves. Three more vehicles, two with troops and weapons, one with civilians departed out the south gate and made their way towards Concord.

Porter ran up to him as Jameson was hoisting a rocket launcher onto his shoulder. "You got this Captain?" asked Porter. "Yes sir. You go on and get those people out of here sir. We'll give you as much time as we can." Jameson responded. Marionetti pulled Porter aside as Jameson went into the control tower and made his way to the top floor overlooking the airfield. "Jim, this is my base and I intend to be here to defend it until every last one of my people is out of here. I'll see you in Concord." the General told Porter. Porter nodded and headed towards the last three trucks after one more had just taken off. "Move out people, on the double! Leave one of those trucks behind for the rearguard." Porter commanded the soldiers and civilians on the ground. There was an attempt at an orderly withdrawal at first but when the first rockets were fired all bets were off. The troops helped to load the wounded into one of the trucks as they attempted to conceal their own fears while the rest of the civilians pushed and shoved to get into a second truck. "One at a time people! The better we cooperate with each other the faster we'll be on our way." Porter told the civilians. "No pushing! Get the wounded on first!" he directed the people. As the trucks were filling up the beamers were closing in. The anti-aircraft guns on the rooftops opened fire when the alien craft moved within range. The barrage of bullets streaked through the sky and hit nothing but air as the alien craft gracefully maneuvered out of the line of fire, demonstrating capabilities far in excess of what earthly aircraft were capable of. They could stop and accelerate at freakish rates, roll and twist around rapidly on all 3 axes and reverse directions on a dime and move vertically or laterally without changing forward velocity or rotating the front of the craft at all. These capabilities made it harder for the ground forces to effectively lead their targets and as a result they unloaded round after round without a single direct hit. A salvo of rockets and shoulder fired missiles followed as several of the guns paused to exchange ammo drums after exhausting their initial capacity. The guidance systems on the missiles, even those few that were simple and hardy enough to resist the effects of the alien EMP device were absolutely useless against the alien craft. Their best tracking systems behaved no differently than simple dumb fire rockets. The soldiers who launched them however, did have the advantage of observing the alien fighters for a few minutes prior to releasing their ordinance. From the flurry of rockets and missiles lobbed towards the enemy one of them struck a beamer on the top of the craft, left of the centerline, which blasted a crater into the outer skin and into the interior of the vessel. Most of the detonation occurred outside the beamer so the ship itself survived, albeit damaged with smoke streaming out from a clear puncture wound leaving a long black trail behind it. After releasing their ordinance the soldiers who had fired the rockets climbed down from their positions and retreated to the trucks.

Inside the control tower Marionetti joined Jameson and the lookout as they prepared for the aliens approach. "Everyone back up!" the lookout cautioned the officers. The lookout shot out the control tower's windows giving them an unobstructed line of sight on the aliens, now becoming clearly visible in form.

As the ground based tripod mounted machine guns opened fire and the roof mounted batteries had reloaded and resumed fire one of the trucks had filled to capacity. Porter lifted the truck's back gate up and slammed it shut. He patted it one last time and waved on the driver to leave. The Colonel then got on board the second truck as it finished up loading. As the aliens returned fire with searing blue bolts of energy Porter's vehicle peeled out leaving only the driver of the third truck and a handful of soldiers behind to evacuate the defenders. General Marionetti watched Porter drive down the road to the south gate and then looked back at Jameson and the lookout who were lining up their rocket launchers. "They're away; we have to give them time to put distance between themselves and this base." Marionetti told the two soldiers. The alien ships blasted through the buildings and the hangars, taking out several of the gunners on the rooftops. One blast from the damaged beamer hit a ground based gunner directly, completely incinerating the man and his weapon into molten slag and ash within a shallow dirt crater. A pair of heavy machine guns on the ground laced into the damage beamer from both sides as it made its strafing run causing the alien ship to separate and come apart before it crashed. "One down, one to go." Jameson whispered as he tried to get a bead on the last beamer, not noticing the three twinkling specks that just appeared in the distance seconds after the first beamer went down. The lookout launched his rocket prompting the ship to do half a barrel roll and slide away from the rocket just as Jameson predicted when he launched his projectile. The alien craft was fast but not fast enough to avoid being struck on the underside by Jameson's rocket. In fact its attempt to evade the attack only made the strike more direct resulting in the blast cracking the ship in half, leaving the halves and assorted smaller fragments to fall away in opposite directions onto the ground. As debris rained down from the sky and structures burned on the east side of the base the soldiers who fled after discharging their rockets made their way to the last truck and got on board. Jameson and the lookout were about to do the same, now that they had no ordinance to deploy. "Are you coming sir?" Jameson asked before he stepped out the door. "I told you I was going to be the last man to leave. I'll join you when the others are on board the truck." the General replied. He had seen then the aliens in the distance and knew this attack had just begun. He still had to buy Porter and the others more time. Only one anti-aircraft battery on the far north side of one of the runways and three ground based machine guns remained. It wouldn't slow the aliens for long but he hoped minutes were all they needed.

Jameson ran downstairs and noticed two rockets were still leaning up against the control tower. Someone hadn't taken all of them. He was about to take them back upstairs to the top level of the tower when another soldier stopped him. "You get to safety sir, I'll handle this." the soldier bravely volunteered. Jameson handed the rockets off to the soldier. "There's two launchers already up there; one for you and one for the General." he instructed the soldier. "The General's up there? I won't let him down sir." the soldier replied before hurrying into the tower. Jameson heard the guns blaring as he got into the passenger seat of the truck and waited. "Come on General, you can't hold them any longer." Jameson whispered. Fear told him to leave but his sense of duty kept him there, not until every last man was on that truck.

The alien attack first took out one of the machine gunners on the ground and scattered the soldiers away from two others. The aliens then dove low and strafed the disabled jets within the hangars and on the runways. A rocket zipped out from the tower and hit one of the trio of alien fighters head on. The fighter lost control and with blazing trails of flame gushing out of it the fighter crashed into the middle of the control tower just as the General fired his rocket. The General's launch was misdirected by the impact of the fighter below them and hit the roof just below the window frame causing the premature detonation of the rocket which engulfed the General and his guardian in flames. Jameson watched as the tower collapsed from the damage done by the fighter crash. One more soldier got on board the truck and closed the gate behind him. The General was not coming; it was too late for anyone now. "Get out of here! Now!" Jameson commanded the driver who without hesitation jammed on the gas and made a break for the south gate. Behind him the remaining defenders attempted to down the alien fighters to no avail as they circled around. Suddenly both fighters ascended high into the sky and one of them dropping a pulsing blue orb down onto the base before both of them streaked through the clouds and columns of smoke on their way back towards Boston. Jameson looked forward as the sphere touched down and with a bright flash lit up the morning that had been darkened by a thick blanket of black smoke that had spread rapidly from Boston and beyond. The truck shook as a rapidly expanding sphere of fire devoured the base and nearly consumed Jameson's vehicle as they raced away as fast as the Army truck would take them before it rose into the sky in the familiar mushroom cloud shape that had ceased to be the symbol of the apocalypse a generation ago. He looked back at the blast, smaller in scale than he thought a nuclear detonation would be but still quite large, effectively annihilating all the military assets that remained on base. He could feel the heat radiating from the blast even as they drove away. It was all gone, their best hope to mount a counterattack, gone, the last static military post in the region, gone. Eight trucks of men and supplies, two of which were full of civilians was, to his knowledge, all that was left on the Massachusetts National Guard and Army Reserve forces in eastern Massachusetts. He only hoped that elsewhere others would have endured with the strength and resolve to join them and keep up the fight.


	4. Chapter 4: Dog Eat Dog

Chapter IV: Dog Eat Dog

4 Oct 0829 EDT

Boston, MA, United States

Anthony, Click and Jeff ran amongst the people fleeing downtown Boston as the explosions continued to thunder around them. The blasts were now becoming more distant as the aliens fanned out away from central Boston and struck at other locations throughout the metro area and beyond. Amidst the frightened screams of the throngs of people running aimlessly about there were the sounds of gunshots and glass shattering as the more unscrupulous individuals among society used the pandemonium as cover for looting, rape, violence and murder. In any other circumstance Anthony and his police buddies would be attempting to seek out and stop such criminal acts but now they were as powerless as any other citizen. All they could do was flee, same as anyone else. If they came upon anyone they could help they did, but as for seeking out trouble and addressing its cause they did not. The withdrawal from Boston was sheer chaos. People trampled each other to escape being consumed in the fires and falling rubble. Vandals aided the aliens in burning parts of Boston, only exaggerating the effects of an already devastating attack. Fire and sewage mains had burst spewing water and filth out onto the street and holding back some of the out of control blazes that were starting to sweep through the city.

After getting clear of the developing firestorm a shadow passed over the trio beckoning Anthony and Click to look skywards. Planes that had been bound for Logan International were falling out of the sky. Many of these planes attempted to glide in for an emergency landing over the harbor. Others made the mistake of assuming that Logan was still standing and crashed into its ruin. A few planes had completely lost control and plummeted straight down into the city. To the north of the area where Anthony was passing through a plane attempted to guide itself through the skyscrapers on an approach out towards an open area in which it could land. The plane's left wing clipped a skyscraper as it glided down from the heavens unpowered. The building sheared the wing off from the fuselage and caused the plane to spiral out of control and crash into another skyscraper further along its flight path, ricocheting off it before it rolled over and continued sailing towards the ground. The plane skidded forward through cars and trucks as it struck the ground out Anthony and his companion's view and crumbled apart as what remained of the plane slowly ground to a halt leaving a trail of destruction and debris in its wake. The inner engine from the severed wing was torn off and flung back and downward into a bus. The outer engine shot forward from the wing and slammed into another skyscraper like a missile moments before the wing itself struck the tower. Anthony's crew kept moving forward at twice the pace as glass, dust and debris rained down on the city around them. "Don't slow down yet! We've got to get away from those planes!" Anthony shouted. "I'm. . trying. . . " panted Jeff as he struggled to keep up. A hospital building in the distance collapsed in the aftermath of one of the explosions from the alien bombing. "There goes Mass General." commented Click. "Can't worry about that now." Anthony told him. Right now they were running for their lives, pretty soon anyone left downtown would be no more.

As they cleared out of downtown the three policemen came across a scuffle outside a jewelry store. Seven men were beating an Asian man in a suit in the parking lot. One of the assailants snatched the man's briefcase while two others pummeled him in the back and ribs. The man held his arms in front of his head to shield his face but couldn't manage to fight back against his attackers. "Take it! Take the money! Get what you want out of the store! It yours! Just leave me alone!" the man shouted and pleaded for mercy. "Nu uh! This ain't about that stuff! This is about payback bitch!" one of the attackers angrily barked back before socking the man in the temple. The victimized man stumbled to the side, reeling from the blow where three more men joined in. They clubbed the man in the back and flung him to the ground where they all gathered around and kicked him repeatedly. Two men in the group broke away from the beat down and went into the store to clean its shelves.

Anthony didn't need to see more. Anthony didn't care about the jewelry store right now; he only was concerned about the man being assaulted. There were some laws still worth enforcing, even in the apocalypse. "Stop! Police!" Anthony shouted. "Shove off!" one of the men shouted back while the others ignored him and continued to kick the battered man on the ground. Anthony drew his service pistol and fired one round into the air at an angle where it wouldn't hit anyone he could see when it fell back to the ground. This got the attackers' attention. All but one of them dispersed and ran off in different directions. Anthony and his friends didn't bother to chase after them, even the one with the man's suitcase. Instead they ran over to the remaining assailant who had gotten on top of the man and was repeatedly striking his arms and trying to land a punch through to his face. Click pulled the remaining man off of his victim and held the brute in a full nelson. "What the hell do you think you are doing boy? Don't you see we're being bombed by spaceships and you want to go off and start wailing on some guy in a silk suit. Didn't your mama raise you better than that?! Huh?!" Anthony got into the perpetrator's face and shouted. "You don't know nothing about my mama!" the man shouted back at Anthony. "Boy you don't want to make Click lose his temper, he's been having a bad day today and he doesn't need knuckleheads making it worse." Anthony threatened the man while Jeff helped the man behind them up off the ground and checked to see if he was alright. "Now you're lucky I don't have time to haul your ass in punk. Run along and don't let me catch you acting the fool again or else I'll have to let my boy Click here show you a bit of street justice." Anthony warned the man while Click stood behind him cracking his knuckles. Click let the man go and after he and Anthony eyed each other with hostile looks the assailant walked away. The two men inside the store saw a uniform cop outside and panicked, grabbing what they could and running out the door. As explosions continued to echo throughout the city the police couldn't do much about looters. They could however help this man. He needed to get out of the city same as Anthony and his friends.

After the ruffian had made his departure Anthony turned around to the man dusting off his clothes. "You ok?" Anthony asked. "Yeah I think so. Going to be sore as heck tomorrow but I'll manage." the man replied. Everyone ducked at the sound of a beamer whizzing by overhead. Not long afterwards a loud boom could be heard in the direction of the harbor. "What ever did you do to piss those boys off so much?" asked Click. "No idea. One of them might have gotten a loan he couldn't pay off here or pawned off his wife's wedding ring who knows." the man answered. "I'm the guy who manages the money here so people always assume it's my fault if they think they're getting a raw deal." the man went on to say. "So you're an accountant then?" asked Anthony. "You could say that." replied the man. "Eh, don't worry about those guys. They're all a bunch of dirtbags anyways. They'll get what's coming to them." Jeff reassured the man while patting his shoulder. A pair of beamers crisscrossed to the northeast of the four men causing them to cower once again. "What's your name boy?" asked Anthony when he stood back up straight. "Dai." replied the man. "Die? That's one hell of an unlucky name to have." Click remarked. "It's not unlucky, it's Vietnamese." Dai replied trying to sound serious. "You're funny, I'll give you that. Hey, hey, hey, that could be like his excuse for coming in late to work or something. No sir, I'm not late I'm Vietnamese." Click said coming out of nowhere with that one. All of them had a short laugh at Dai's expense and got back to the serious business of fleeing from the destruction of central Boston. Anthony and Dai both looked over to the broken skyline and the half dozen alien fighters buzzing around over it. The flashes of flame flickered on the ground and great columns of smoke rose to the sky and combined to form an ever expanding darkened canopy over the city. "It's sad. Our jets can't even get off the ground I bet." Dai lamented. "Probably didn't even get the chance." Anthony remarked.

A crowd of people rushing in their direction was all the encouragement the four men needed to stop taking a breather and get back to running away themselves. Further down the road before reaching the town of Brookline they encountered a handful of other police officers and state troopers trying to keep the evacuation proceeding in an orderly fashion. The law enforcement personnel were having limited success in this endeavor as fear and panic were far stronger than their warnings or encouragements. Anthony, Click and Jeff joined in to help their fellow officers and Dai remained nearby for his own safety. After what had just happened it felt more comfortable having a couple of cops nearby in case things got out of hand. As the herds of people sought to escape Boston to the south and to the west it appeared the alien victory was cemented. No further explosions could be heard. No weapons of any kind were heard actually, save only for a few distant discharges of small arms fire, either directed skyward or to disperse violent looters as Anthony and his crew had just done. As for a plan the only thing any of them could think of was summed up in one word "Run." They would run all day and all night if they had to until they found somewhere, anywhere that was still safe.


	5. Chapter 5: Sibling Rivalry

Chapter V: Sibling Rivalry

4 Oct 0956 EDT

Newton, MA, United States

As the Masons and the company they traveled with made their way towards Framingham the explosions in the distance behind them began to die down. One by one the alien fighters stopped their attack runs and took up positions hovering in a wide circle over downtown Boston all the way out to the bay. Further out in the Boston suburbs, mainly along the major highways machine guns and rockets were fired from some of the surviving military forces on the ground towards the alien ships overhead. The ships would either dive down and fire a barrage of energy bolts towards their targets or elevate and drop bombs to clear an entire area if the ground fire was too intense. As resistance was pacified the beamers pulled back towards the city or flew off beyond the horizon, presumably to scour the hinterlands en route to another more stalwart city that had not yet been fully subdued.

Tom's group of a few hundred people that had packed the hospital grounds was making decent time on their way to Framingham. The wounded among their numbers had mostly minor injuries so they were able to keep a reasonable pace. A throng of healthy, unharmed but shaken people also accompanied them and they continued to add to their numbers with new members joining them along their retreat. Fortunately these people had started their trek before all hell had broken lose downtown and the alien bombardment had kept the looters and hooligans to their south. They could hear the violence within earshot but as of yet they had not been affected by it. These people had kept their heads about themselves and trusted they were better off together than every man for himself, tearing and clawing for whatever they could get their hands on before running to the hills. By in large the group appeared calm and orderly although terribly frightened. The most frightened among them looked to those who appeared the most at ease for guidance. Among the number that was turned to for strength were Tom and his wife.

Tom and Rebecca walked at the front of the group with Matt in between them. Hal was just directly behind them walking hand in hand with Karen and Ben lagged a dozen or so yards further behind. "At least the bombing has stopped." mentioned Hal after the earthshaking blasts had subsided. "I wouldn't get too comfortable over that." cautioned Tom. Hal smiled and tried to keep a positive attitude about the situation even though the world was crumbling all around. It didn't quite feel real to him yet. It was like watching a natural disaster play out on a television screen from some other part of the world. The reality of the situation hadn't quite hit home to Hal yet. He hadn't lost anyone close to him yet as some of the people in their company had. His family was all here, as was his girlfriend and many of his friends from school were also present and accounted for. Those who weren't he had assumed were holding their own with some other group leaving the city. They were tough young men, and smart enough to take care of themselves.

Tom also noticed Paul among the company and he walked over to see him as the group carried on towards Framingham. When Paul noticed Tom noticing him he walked over and caught up to Tom and his family. "Glad to see you found your wife." Paul said to Tom. "As am I." replied Tom. "So, what do you suppose we're going to do to get through this?" Paul asked. "Well for right now we're going to get these people to Framingham. After that I thought I might go looking for an old friend." Tom answered. "Do you remember Alex from Thanksgiving dinner last year when I had you all over?" asked Tom. "Oh yes, Professor Vlensa. He teaches at the same college you do right?" replied Paul. "Yeah, he is in the mathematics department, teaches the remedial class and a couple advanced lessons on Thursdays. He's kind of a conspiracy nut; you know the one world government, black helicopter people. He's always been warning me about this group and that group and as a matter of fact about aliens." Tom told Paul. "Seems like he's right about one thing for a change." chuckled Paul. "Who would've thought it?" Tom replied with a smile. "Well he claims to have a bunker up in the White Mountains of New Hampshire that was stocked up to withstand a nuclear war and the yearlong Soviet invasion he expected to follow it. In a situation like this that is where I would expect him to be; he probably was already up there before the first bomb dropped. I was hoping to take Rebecca and the kids up there and try to ride this out; you're welcome to come along too." Tom explained. "Do you know where it is? The White Mountains is still a lot of ground to cover and if this guy is as much of a survivalist as he claims he won't be easy to find." inquired Paul. "Not really but there are a few guys he hung out with more frequently that might have a better idea. If they had survived they might be able to help us as well, I figure they'll be heading up that way themselves." Tom replied. "So drop off these fine folks and march north in search of some guy in a bomb shelter. What could go wrong? Alright, I'm in." Paul threw his lot in with Tom's plan. Tom laughed, looked down and then looked around the group. It was as good of a plan as he could come up with right now. He wasn't thinking about the future of humanity and what the aliens had in store for them. At the moment he was thinking about his family and ensuring their safety. The army, or whatever was left of it, would have people to deal with the threat the aliens posed. It was their duty to fight; it was the non-combatant citizen's duty to survive. He would fight to protect his own, but he would leave the war to others. A kind hearted man, Tom was indeed concerned about everyone else, the country and planet as a whole, but against such a foe what really could he do. The way Tom saw it there were two ways that people were going to get through this, fight back and drive the aliens away or dig in, hide and wait. Without knowing what the aliens intentions were the second option seemed the most prudent at the time. In the end fighting the aliens may not even be necessary or wise. Perhaps some way could finally be devised to communicate with the aliens. For all he knew this was all one big misunderstanding. We could have done something to unintentionally provoke them; Lord only knows that somewhere in the world people were shooting at the aliens first. They could have seen the human race as one and the same, without distinction between its nations and individuals. There was a whole host of both rational and "alien" reasons that this invasion might not be as straightforward as it appeared. Maybe even if they were aggressors they could find themselves checked by a superior member of some Galactic Federation of Planets and punished for their attack. One thing he felt sure of is that this terror would be over; whether by diplomacy or force of arms eventually this interplanetary conflict would end. He did not presume that he would play some great role in bringing about that end, only that he would seek to see it come to pass. When this was over he believed that humanity would survive. As a father first and foremost it was his duty to see that his family was among those who survived with the species. As he walked along it brought him some consolation to think that when this was all over he could be the one to write this chapter in the history books. Someday, several centuries down the road when humans and various species of aliens coexist peacefully in a larger galactic community some professor would be expounding upon the works of Thomas Mason concerning the disastrous first contact in the early 21st century. That was his mark on history, he could hope.

For Ben lagging behind the rest of his family it was fear that dominated his thoughts. While Hal and Karen were comparatively chipper and discussing things as if this was all some sort of game Ben was nervous. He hadn't grasped the magnitude of the situation either but he felt the danger to himself was very real. If he wasn't swallowed by a fireball that fell out of the sky he feared that he would have to see one of these aliens face to face. That alone, seeing these monsters in the flesh was enough to terrify Ben to his core. Worse still he worried about what they might do to him. Would they simply vaporize him with a ray gun like in the comic books or would they rip him apart, implant their murderous larvae in him, suck his brains out or eat him alive. Ben shuddered at the thought. He had read too many books and seen too many movies about monsters and aliens that he had no shortage of gruesome ideas, only this time it would be for real. He tried to calm down to keep his asthma at bay but that was about all he was able to do; he couldn't push the fear out of his mind. His dread was building and that in turn made his lungs start to tighten up. It was like someone had reached inside his chest and was squeezing the air out of him. Before the phantom grip around his lungs got too severe his brother's voice broke through the curtain of dread in Ben's mind and yanked him back to the real world, away from the terrors in his thoughts. "Come on Ben, keep up." Hal playfully goaded his brother who was lagging now even further behind the rest of the Mason family. "I'm coming Hal, hold on." Ben coughed and shouted back. Ben tried to pick up the pace but still was losing ground on his brother. "Slow down, I'm going as fast as I can." Ben said. "I am slowing down. You're just not fast enough." Hal laughed and looked back at Ben. Karen yanked Hal's arm and pulled his attention away from teasing his brother and onto her instead.

While Hal and Karen had their little talk about who knows what Ben accidentally bumped into someone else in his vain attempt to catch up to his brother. It was a girl about the same age as him plus or minus a year or two wearing a deep blue poofy jacket, similar dark grey colored pants, black and purple converse shoes, blue and white mittens and a blue and white knit cap with a blue poof ball on the top of it. She had curly black hair that went down to the middle of her back and dark brown skin of such a shade that could have made her either black or Hispanic. She was an inch and a half shorter than Ben with a round face, no makeup, thin eyebrows and dark brown eyes. Her poofed up jacket made her seem a little chubby on sight though underneath she was shaped like an average girl, neither thin nor thick but in between, with a small waist and a little extra padding in some areas around the hips and thighs. In his carelessness Ben had walked straight into the back of this girl knocking her onto the ground. The girl fell face forward catching herself with her hands as she landed. "I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry!" Ben apologized profusely as he stopped and got in front of the girl. He extended his hand and offered to help her up while continuing to apologize to her. "It's alright." the girl told him. "A lot of people have a lot on their mind today, they're not really thinking about what's in front of them." she continued as she dusted herself off. "Sorry, I was trying to catch up to my family and I guess I looked past you." Ben told her. "A lot of people do." the girl told Ben. "I know the feeling. No one really notices me either. Well, no one my own age that is. My dad does, and Hal when he feels like it." Ben said. "Hal, is that your brother? The one you were yelling at just now?" the girl asked. "Yeah, he likes to mess with me sometimes." Ben answered. "I see, that's what big brothers do, unless you're a girl then they get all overprotective of you when they see you talking to a cute guy." the girl said as she noticed, looking over Ben's shoulder, a familiar face looking at her from amidst the crowd passing by. "We should probably get moving. Wouldn't want to be left all alone here." the girl suggested.

Ben and the girl resumed walking with the herd of humanity that Ben's parents were shepherding to Framingham. "So you have an older brother too?" Ben asked. "No, but I have a friend, Adrian, that acts like one. No boy is ever good enough for me according to Adrian. You might think he had a crush on me but nah, it's not that. He's been dating this girl Alicia ever since we started Junior High." the girl confessed. "Hal is the opposite way with me. He's always trying to push me towards girls saying talk to her, talk to her, you might actually like her." Ben said. "Are you gay?" the girl asked honestly and innocently enough. Ben blushed, his pale cheeks turned beet red at the thought of the question. "Oh, no. I'm straight. It's just well, I have a hard time talking to girls and well, Hall tries to force it on me." Ben confessed. "Oh sorry, I didn't mean anything by it I was just curious." the girl apologized. "No need to apologize. There's nothing wrong with gay people I'm just not one of them." Ben replied. "That's hard to imagine though, you having a hard time talking to girls, Mr. . . wait what is your name?" the girl asked. "Ben. We'll you've only just met me and besides it would be rude for me to be quiet and bashful after I just knocked you down to the earth." Ben replied. "Ha ha ha! Down to the earth, how thou hast smitten me brave Knight Ben!" the girl laughed. "That sounded funny that's all. I'm Graciela, Graciela Ramirez" the girl continued, introducing herself to Ben.

"So your brother let me guess, he just thinks he's all big and bad because he's the star football player in the family am I right?" Graciela sarcastically asked Ben. "Lacrosse." Ben corrected her. "Lacrosse, ha! That's a pansy sport; he wouldn't last five minutes in a real sport, like hockey." Graciela laughed. "Hockey, eh? I never figured you for much of a hockey fan." Ben remarked. "I'm not, but my dad is and if I wanted him to watch my dramas with me then I had to watch the Bruins games with him; that was the deal." Graciela answered. "He must've wanted you to get into it so you'd become a hockey player huh?" Ben asked. "Not really, I think he just wanted me to share his enthusiasm. When my father first came to this country as a child from Cuba he had never seen snow so of course when he saw other kids playing games out on the ice he immediately became fascinated with the sport. The way he would go on and on about it was like he thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread." Graciela explained. "Sounds like he should have been the hockey player." Ben commented. "He tried out in college but didn't make the cut so he just loves the game as a spectator now." Graciela explained. "As for me, I grew up here with all the cold and the snow so it isn't anything special to me. Personally I'd rather crawl up beside a warm fire with a good book and a big mug of hot cocoa." Graciela told Ben. "Same here; sounds like we would get along just fine." Ben said. Graciela looked at him and smiled, and then both of them looked down at their feet. They then looked ahead of them again, Graciela lifting her head up before Ben did. Ben, awkward with girls as ever felt he had really stepped in it there, crossing some imaginary line that only existed in his head. "Is your dad here?" Ben asked, changing the subject. "He's out of country on business so it's just me, my mom and by baby sister Elsa. They're over there." Graciela told Ben and pointed towards her mother leading a toddler by the hand. When Graciela's mother saw her she waved for her to come over. "Graciela, Graciela!" her mother called to her. "Looks like I need to go. We'll talk some more later I'm sure. We're all going to the same place." Graciela told Ben, excusing herself. "Nice meeting you." Ben said. "Likewise. Take care Ben." Graciela said before she walked away. "Bye." Ben said only two minutes too late. She was already gone.

After Graciela went back to her mother Hal slowed down and chuckled as Ben caught up with him. "You just can't talk to girls to save your life can you? She was totally digging on you and you whiffed it, bases loaded and all." Hal derided Ben. "This isn't baseball Hal. I can talk to girls just fine and no, she wasn't into me, she was just being nice." Ben responded. "What girl have you ever talked to without turning into a blathering fool? You don't talk to anyone but Nick and your teachers at school." Hal sarcastically asked Ben. "I talk to plenty of girls online." Ben replied. "Who, that girl from the Philippines?" Hal started to say. "Japan, she lives in Japan." Ben corrected him. "Whatever, that online stuff doesn't count; besides she's like five years older than you." Hal mocked Ben. "Six." Ben corrected him again. "That's even worse. You're barely 14 and girls my age aren't into stuttering kids obsessed with wizards, vampires and genies." Hal told Ben. "What genies Hal? I've never been into genies, except maybe when I was seven and we all watched Aladdin with Mom and Dad." Ben replied. "Hal! Be nice to your brother." their mother called over to him. The peacemaker of the family, Rebecca was always the one to defuse their bickering just before a fight broke out. "Ok mom." Hal called back. He turned to Ben and patted him on the back. "Buck up there sport, I was just playing with you. You just got to drum up some confidence and you'll do fine." Hal told him. Hal sped up and caught up to his dad, Karen and Matt. Ben watched him go and sighed. His brother did care for him; he just had this way of always making him feel inadequate. It really wasn't Hal's fault though. Life had always been kinder to his brother; with his fragile health and bumbling awkward shyness he kind of got the short end of the stick. Hal wasn't all brawn and no brains either; he did well enough in his studies and was pretty smart, in Ben's estimation, for a jock. Matt, he presumed was somewhere in the middle; the goldilocks child, neither too hot nor too cold and could in his own way relate to both of his brothers. Ben looked over towards Graciela who after a minute or so noticed him noticing her and smiled. Ben returned the smile and waved before looking away. Stupid, stupid, stupid, had he really whiffed it or was Hal just making something out to be more than what it was? Of course Hal was making something out to be more than what it was; this is Hal he was talking about here. Ben stepped up his pace again and started to gain ground on his parents who had slowed down upon entering a new section of town.

The people from Cambridge and the nearby towns along the way now passed by a shopping center that was in the middle of being plundered for necessities. The looters were mostly families or young adults. This wasn't wanton destruction, it was mere survival. Toilet paper, baby formula and bottled water seemed to be the hot items; they weren't stealing anything they wouldn't need in the very near term for the most part. There was one man who ran out of a toy store with his arms full of cash he had gotten by smashing open the registers. Paul laughed as he saw the man run by, with ones and twenties trailing off in the breeze behind him. "What's all that going to buy him now?" Paul remarked. "He's an optimist. He hopes the stores will open in a few days once everything is back to the way it was." Tom added. He was an optimist himself, but not an opportunist. He hoped that things would go back to how they were and that this alien problem would resolve itself one way or the other. Though he felt it was preposterous to assume that it would blow over in a matter of days. Paul wasn't so much the optimist but he wasn't the type to abandon all hope either. He simply expected it to be a very different world when the dust had settled, one in which vast sums of paper currency would be nothing more than kindling for firewood.

While lost in thought Tom had lost track of Hal for a moment. "Where did Hal go?" Tom asked his wife. "He was just behind us a minute ago." Rebecca replied. She turned around and was surprised not to see him there. The two of them looked around until they spotted their oldest son coming out of a beauty supply store amidst the looters with a large jar of hair gel. "When all of this is over, you're coming back here and paying for that." Tom scolded him. "Sure thing dad." Hal agreed with a chuckle as he walked back beside Karen. "You just couldn't help yourself could you?" Karen asked. "When in Rome. . ." Hal replied. "Just because the world is coming to an end doesn't mean I can't look my best." Hal added as he put his arm around Karen's shoulder. She smiled and looked over at him, both of their eyes met and they kissed. They each pulled their lips back after they touched and grinned at each other cheerfully before looking away towards the path ahead.

Tom shrugged his shoulders. He didn't sanction the people he was with storming the stores to gather up whatever they might fear they were in need of. The hospital would have something waiting for them he was sure, what they lacked the people around there could give of their own possessions to help out. Tom might have been being naive but he wasn't the type to abandon the civilized world in a crisis. The rules didn't change simply because there was no one around to enforce them. This he would have believed whether it was an hour after the attack or a year. Tom knew that regardless of what happened to the world, the world always needed good people. He would like to consider himself to be one of the good ones.

 _Author's note: Tom and Ben may seem out of character from the show here. This is not intended to be a deviation however. First of all remember we are dealing with pre-harnessed Ben, his character is based on comments made throughout the series on what he was like pre-invasion (sickly, shy, a bit of a nerd and so forth) As for Tom most of that is explained in-story. He's taking the role of a father and an academic, not a soldier and as a good father would do his first duty is to protect his family. Also mind you that Tom has not yet suffered loss in the attack and would like to keep it that way._


	6. Chapter 6: Dead Weight

Chapter VI: Dead Weight

4 Oct 0920 EDT

Woburn, MA, United States

Weaver and his unit continued to assist the civilians caught in the mangled mess of vehicles around his APC while the alien fighters assailed the city to the southeast. After what appeared to be a final spattering of bombs going off the fighters turned away from their attack runs and took their positions hovering over Greater Boston one by one as if they were pieces being inserted into a puzzle. As the noise around them shifted to become more human in origin Weaver's soldiers began to take notice.

"Sir, look over there, to the south. It looks like they've stopped the attack; they're just sitting there." Sergeant Healy reported.

He handed his pair of binoculars over to Weaver so he could take a closer look. Weaver raised the binoculars to his eyes and scanned over what remained of the distant skyline; from his position he could see only the suburbs and not the truly ruined downtown area. There at the edge of his field of vision he could see the faint twinkling dots that were alien fighters locking themselves in place in the sky.

"It's not over Sergeant. They're securing a landing zone." Weaver replied.

The grizzled veteran soldier rubbed his chin as he stared across the grey and brown expanse of what used to be a city, full of life. There between the strands and columns of smoke the alien fighters formed a ring around the heart of the city, only a small portion of which was visible to Weaver from this distance. A few beamers still zipped in and out of the aerial perimeter like flies around the rim of an outdoor garbage can but the inner ring was holding firm. Weaver lowered the binoculars and handed them back to Healey.

"Tell the civilians to start making their way west, someone has to be setting up a refugee camp somewhere outside the city. For those who can't travel see if anyone is willing to stay with them, if you can move them somewhere safe where they can wait until help arrives." Weaver turned back and instructed a couple of his soldiers.

Weaver walked back to the APC and climbed up on top of it to address the civilian crowd. Without electronic amplification to assist him he spoke, almost shouting, at the top of his voice. His speech was measured and at ease, though loud it did not convey panic or fear but rather that of authoritative strength. It was enough to stop the hustle and bustle of the nervous civilians and soldiers tending to them and get them to pay attention.

"Everyone listen up! I've received orders stating that me and my soldiers will be heading into danger soon and as such we cannot risk your lives being in the line of fire. Anyone able to should begin moving away from the city as soon as possible. My men are going around looking for volunteers to tend to those who can't be evacuated yet; any assistance will be greatly appreciated. We have sent for help and any emergency crews in the area will be notified of your position. We will find help and send it to them." Weaver announced.

The announcement was a half-truth; Weaver withheld his suspicions of an imminent alien ground offensive to avoid a panic. The part about receiving orders from higher up was also a lie because he did not want an argument arising between himself and the citizens. At this point they were dead weight and would only slow down any efforts to engage the enemy when they landed, and they would land, this Weaver was certain of. An occupying force must have boots on the ground; one could not dominate entirely from the skies. This was true for his own army and by extension human armies ever since the dawn of time, and he was reasonably certain it applied to the extrasolar invaders as well. No matter how technologically advanced these aliens were they would have to physically come down and take possession of the Earth for it to be truly theirs.

As for his decision to leave the civilians behind, Weaver was not the type of soldier to use human shields, as if such a strategy would even be effective against so foreign an aggressor, nor was he the type to be a human shield himself. If the civilians had gone with him it would've been down to one of those two options. Sadly he didn't actually believe, with the city in the state of chaos that it was in, that any help would actually arrive. Eventually they would figure that out and Weaver hoped that reasoned minds among them would be able to save a few of them from their fate. Weaver knew that many of these people were as good as dead but he had to tell them something to give them hope lest they were given over to their fears and ultimately their total demise. It was a false hope, but hope nonetheless.

A man emerged from the crowd and volunteered to stay behind with the wounded. He was joined by another man, then a woman and a third man. Weaver congratulated them on their high moral character then turned to Sergeant Healey.

"Sergeant Healey, your sidearm." Weaver requested.

Healey unholstered his pistol and handed it to Weaver. Weaver then offered the pistol to the first man who had volunteered to stay with the wounded.

"Take it, just in case anything bad happens." Weaver told the man.

The man took the pistol and nodded at Weaver before the soldiers began to amass behind him. The civilians in their midst started to form a herd and migrate along their own path primarily to the northeast with a few smaller groups actually heading into the city, presumably to locate loved ones and retrieve possessions. Weaver thought these people were making a mistake but he could understand their reasoning so he made no objections to their perceived folly. If he had not been so duty bound he too would have probably gone into Boston and searched for his daughters. A few more people seemed to linger behind as well to aid the wounded and in hopes of finding help themselves. Weaver sorrowfully lamented the fact that these people would not live to see the rescue they so longed for. He then reconstituted himself and turned to the business of his own soldiers and the battle they would inevitably be thrust into.

"Everyone ready? Alright men, let's move out!" Weaver ordered the troops after looking them over to make sure everyone was accounted for.

The soldiers headed westward along the highway towards Hanscom AFB where they hoped to rendezvous with whatever remained of the National Guard. Only minutes after they had cleared out a beamer came out of nowhere and with a rapid burst of bluish-white energy bolts annihilated the military vehicles and several of the surrounding cars. Weaver could hear the screams of the remaining terrified civilians fleeing in panic during the attack, leaving behind those too badly wounded to move as they fled for their own lives. Weaver looked down and sighed. It was a tragedy but there was nothing that his men could have done to stop that. He told them to leave, that was all he could do. Those who couldn't or wouldn't were expected to be lost from the start. Though he wanted to, he couldn't stop to mourn their loss however, he had to keep moving. As they continued down the highway Weaver noticed the remaining fighters that hadn't fallen back to Boston or went elsewhere were doing much of the same thing. They were taking out operational military hardware that was left stranded on the roads and in various neighborhoods, boxed in by the disabled civilian vehicles and rubble. Most of the time there was a brief exchange of fire which came too late and was ended quickly as the soldiers and their gear were blown to bits by the aircraft. Another note Weaver made in the sporadic skirmishing was that a couple of the vehicles that had been completely abandoned and left alone were ignored by the aliens. This wouldn't be forgotten as he and his troops soon faced their own opposition from the skies.

A beamer whizzed towards them from the south heading northwest. The soldiers instinctively raised their weapons towards the sky, not as if small arms would likely take the fast moving spacecraft down but it was all that they had.

"Wait don't shoot!" Weaver ordered his men to stand down.

They nervously lowered their rifles and waited. As anticipated the beamer flew past them and continued en route to its destination.

"Stand down everyone. Stand down." Weaver calmed his platoon who was all too ready to begin firing at the alien craft now leagues away from them.

"It doesn't consider us a threat. That's why they had limited their attacks to armored vehicles with people around them. They understand what our hardware can do and recognize that threat. It would appear that they cannot yet distinguish the difference between a soldier and a harmless human." Weaver explained as he looked over his men.

"So for the time being, no shooting at the spaceships." Weaver ordered.

They then resumed the march towards Hanscom where they believed other units would be headed as well. There they could reform their broken lines and at last be able to mount a solid defense. Along the way they assisted any survivors they encountered but they wouldn't take any civilians with them. They also joined with a team of seven soldiers that had survived a beamer strike on their unit who also were en route to Hanscom. In spite of the morale boost given by finding more of their own, soon enough Weaver's prediction about the fate of their destination would come to pass.

A rapid succession of explosions rumbled in the distance ahead of them followed by blossoming towers of black smoke sprang up from the base of the horizon to the sky. "Well, there goes Hanscom." Weaver despondently groaned affirming the defeat he foresaw earlier.

"Company! Halt!" Weaver ordered.

The soldiers stopped and Weaver walked out in front of them, surveyed the skies ahead then did an about face towards his men.

"I know you must have seen the same thing I have and I know you know what that means. Hanscom Air Force Base had been destroyed. Nonetheless we will resume our march undeterred. There are liable to be survivors still there as well as equipment we may be able to use. Afterwards we will fall back to the nearby town of Concord as there is more smoke coming from the direction of Bedford. There we will await the arrival of the rest of our forces from the Greater Boston area; we couldn't have been the only ones with the idea to head out there. At that point with any luck we can reestablish a chain of command and form a strategy going forward. Though many of you may be thinking it, our fight is not hopeless; our efforts are not in vain! Keep your chin up soldiers and push on, we'll have our payback on these sons of space bitches soon enough!" Weaver rallied his men before leading them onward.

By the time they passed through the base and arrived at Concord Weaver hoped they would have amassed a solid battle line. With the pace of the invasion thus far the aliens were not likely to give them much time before their ground forces arrived so they had to be prepared. Weaver and his company now left the highway in favor of a more direct overland route towards Hanscom, also benefiting from immersion between buildings and trees to disguise their troop movements from the eyes of the alien fighters zooming around overhead.

 _Author's Note: I'm trying out a new style for the dialogue starting here. May go back and redo the previous chapters in this manner if it's preferable, if not I can always go back to block prose. Let me know what you think about this or anything else with the story. Any and all input is welcome._


	7. Chapter 7: Civil Distress

Chapter VII: Civil Distress

4 Oct 1005 EDT

Jamaica Plain, MA, United States

Anthony, his colleagues and Dai continued to assist with the evacuation efforts now moving southbound after a beamer strike along highway 9 took out the road along with a significant number of civilians. After that the determination was made to stay off the main roads and head in a new direction. They were now in what had once been a pleasant middle class suburb of Boston. There were nice but modest houses, trees, backyards, shopping centers and chain restaurants of all kinds here. This area however had been scorched during a wave of unrest prior to the invasion and now resembled as much of a war zone as downtown Boston. Because it appeared already demolished the aliens did not bother with attacking this community and thus it granted the extant local and state authorities a degree of cover for the ongoing evacuation efforts. In spite of its relative safety the evacuees would not be stopping here for long. They were still too close to the chaos to rest and no suitable facilities were still standing here to house and care for the people.

"I was just here the other day." mentioned Jeff.

"For what? I thought you lived on the other side of the airport?" asked Anthony in return.

"For the Delgado case remember? This is where it happened." Jeff answered.

"Oh yeah, I remember. Sorry, with everything that's been happening today it slipped my mind." said Anthony.

"A lot of things slipped my mind because of this, a lot of things." Jeff said.

". . .and rightly so my brothers." Click added.

"Where do you suppose we'll take all these people?" asked Jeff.

"South. I think that's about all that anyone around here knows." Anthony answered.

"I can't imagine Providence is doing any better than we are. If they hit Boston they probably hit down there too." Dai presumed.

"It may be even worse with all the naval facilities closer by." added Jeff.

"We'll probably stop before we go that far. I'd assume we'd establish a camp in one of the outer suburbs. We could end up getting some Providence refugees as well." Anthony suggested.

"I guess that decision is left to wiser men. By the way, who is leading the flock here?" Jeff turned to Anthony and asked.

"Beats me. I think we all are thinking that the next guy down the line has a better handle on things." Anthony shrugged his shoulders and replied.

"Unless you're the last guy in line, then you're just screwed." chuckled Click.

They continued to guide the herd of humanity flowing from the north along the route the state and local police had checked out ahead of them. Anthony and his friends formed the unofficial welcome wagon to the neighborhood being the first authority figures the fleeing people would come across. At first the crowds were large and unruly but soon enough they calmed down, now given less to panic though immense fear continued to bubble underneath the surface. As time wore on the influx of Boston residents through the town began to slow until it was down to just a trickle.

Meanwhile to the north the skies looked quiet again beneath the blackened canopy of smoke that choked out the sun. The alien craft continued to hold position over Boston proper while many among their number had flew off beyond the horizon never to return. The last specks of human resistance had vanished within an hour of the first attack. Soon after that the last bomb dropped, popping off in solitude to little effect. Since then the invaders watched from on high as the remnants of the city's population either fled or tore each other to shreds. It was safe to assume the air campaign in this part of the country was over and that the aliens had clearly won.

Back in Jamaica Plain, while the police couldn't do anything about the aliens those being evacuated at least had some level of protection from each other. Frequently police officers, sheriff's deputies and state troopers had to break up a scuffle here and there. While anarchy prevailed throughout most of the metropolitan area along this corridor there would be a peaceful and orderly evacuation. The police presence here gave comfort to the evacuees and soon the initial shock of the attack dissipated before the smoke had cleared. At the rear of the column Anthony and his friends came across one last group of people with no sign of any more behind them.

"Are you alright? Do any of you require medical attention?" Anthony asked the group after noticing one of the men was limping.

"I twisted my ankle running out of my apartment. I'll be fine, just got to walk it off." the limping man answered.

"Ok then." Anthony nodded handing the man over to Dai who helped him move along.

"Have you seen anyone else? Are there any more people coming behind you? Anthony asked the others.

"We're the last ones. The bombing knocked down all the roads, overpasses and buildings in such a way that they formed a wall. Anyone left behind it is completely trapped now." a frizzy haired woman answered.

"Yeah, sad to say Boston's locked off from the world now." added a young freckle faced teenager.

Anthony, Jeff and Click closed up the rear of the herd after this last group passed and continued along their way to the south. A single beamer flew overhead causing a noticeable stir among the crowd but it did not attack. Anthony looked behind him as they kept walking to see where the beamer was going. It shrank away past the outer aerial perimeter as three cigar shaped craft were descending through the blanket of smoke above central Boston along with a swarm of larger sized beamers. Two more cigar shaped craft then pierced the smoky veil as the first three hovered near to the ground. Rapid flashes of light sprayed forth from the jumbo sized beamers onto the ground. What they were shooting at was uncertain as was the behavior of the larger craft in their midst. It was too far away for Anthony to make out any detail of the event. Anthony squinted and could see tiny, barely visible wire like strands rapidly springing out of the bottom of the cigar shaped craft and dropping below the torched skyline. As fast as they extended the filaments retracted back into the ships.

"They're finally coming down off their ships." Anthony murmured under his breath.

His words caught the attention of his buddy Click who turned back and saw the ships hovering just above the city skyline. Jeff, Dai and several of the people they were leading away turned back and saw the same thing. Bryan, a young man who was among the last group of evacuees shuddered as he saw the umbilical extensions beneath the ships flick the distant ground. It wouldn't be long until they would see these aliens in the flesh. As curious as they may have been to see an alien in person each and every one of them knew that it would be far better if they never had to lay eyes on one. So the pace of the evacuation quickened.


	8. Chapter 8: Inmates Running The Asylum

Chapter VIII: Inmates Running the Asylum

4 Oct 0929 EDT

Concord, MA, United States

Most of the prison staff had now been evacuated following the alien attack in Boston. Meanwhile John Pope and the other inmates were corralled in the cafeteria while the remaining guards debated what to do with them. The overhead windows bathed the cafeteria in natural light now that the power had gone dead. Battery powered spotlights were shone into the cafeteria from the hall outside and from the catwalk above to provide greater illumination of the prisoners sitting in the shadows. They all were seated in rows at the dining tables with those who exceeded the cafeteria's capacity standing up against the wall. Two guards carrying shotguns were on the north and south corners of the second floor catwalk surrounding the cafeteria while two other guards with tasers and billy clubs guarded the door on the ground floor. Through the bars isolating the cafeteria from the rest of the prison five other officers observed the crowd of inmates and discussed the matter among themselves.

"What are they talking about?" Whitey leaned over and whispered to Pope who was watching the guards intently.

"They're trying to figure out what to do with us." Pope replied in disinterest without a hint of concern in his voice.

"Seems something big went down outside and all the suits went running for the hills. Now their minions are left with a big cage full of dangerous men and no idea what to do with them." Pope commented, sounding somewhat amused by the whole debacle.

Pope had his ideas about what had happened outside. It wasn't as if he was blind to the news about the aliens. They had television in the prison commons and they had heard the reports about the spaceships. It was only logical to assume something had gone wrong in mankind's efforts to cozy up to and introduce ourselves to the visitors. Lopez slid Pope a shank fashioned from a fork snapped at an angle to give it a sharp point. Cueball turned and looked at Pope grinned and nodded then looked back at the guards.

"Big bad guards look like a bunch of chicken shits right now." laughed Andre, a gruff, bodybuilder type guy serving time for aggravated robbery, sitting at the end of the table behind Pope.

Andre and Pope were the big shots in the prison yard. Andre with his affiliation with the Boston Bloods and obvious physical strength commanded respect as did Pope with his cunning and willingness to make an example of those who crossed him while being quite pleasant to those who showed him favor. Pope's crew appeared more like a mixed bag of trailer trash, crazy eyed psychopaths, skinheads and Latin thugs while Andre's crew looked a lot like his gang on the outside. The two had a code of decorum between them and didn't start fights between the two groups without provocation. They each had their own connections and exchanged drugs, smokes and prison bitches between themselves. Most of the time they just steered clear of each other, for the two factions didn't always see eye to eye. At this moment however both Pope and Andre were on the exact same page.

As Pope stared at the guards the guards also cautiously eyed him back. The guards were nervous and concerned, both about the alien attack outside and the inmates within the walls. Beyond the barred doors separating the cafeteria from the inner halls three guards discussed the fate of those they held in custody.

"What do you say we just leave them here?" suggested one of the prison guards.

"Yeah, I'm not risking my neck to save a bunch of convicts." a second guard chimed in.

"Our orders were to find a way to securely evacuate them to a new location and that's what we'll do." a third and more senior guard rebuked the pair.

The third guard was the man the warden had appointed to oversee the situation with the inmates prior his departure. The evacuation order wasn't entirely clear; the administrative staff and their escorts had been quite hasty in their withdrawal and failed to specify he details. It was assumed that the federal prison at Devens would be their destination as its facilities had been upgraded recently and its backup generators were hardened to withstand both an EMP attack or a nearby lightning strike. It wasn't that the other guards' idea to leave the prisoners behind bars here were not appealing given the difficulty in transferring so many at once. It was that it was considered inhumane to leave them here without power, sanitation and running water; this was still America, not some backwater Third World country and even prisoners here were entitled to some level of human dignity. Not all of these men were hardcore felons; some of them were doing time for what amounted to minor offenses after all. Also it could be anticipated with the attack on Boston that a large number of civilian refugees would find themselves in Concord and a large prison population in a potentially structurally unsound building was not in the best interests of their safety.

"With what? The buses don't start. There's not enough chain to link everyone here together in one big blob. We can cuff them but they can still run away and we haven't the manpower to catch them all." protested the first guard.

"Bullshit! You can tie them all together just fine." the senior guard upbraided the perceived laziness of his fellows.

A light shone out of the hallway leading to one of the inner cell blocks as a fourth guard entered into the outer corridor. With his keys jingling on his waist the fourth guard approached the senior guard.

"Are the cell blocks locked down?" the senior guard asked.

"Yes. Everything's locked up tight." the guard replied.

"What about the backup generators?" the senior guard inquired.

"They simply won't fire up. I don't know what's wrong and the maintenance man has up and split." answered the guard.

The senior guard looked disappointed. That would make emptying out the inner cell blocks difficult.

"I can try to tinker around with them, see if I can't get something to click on in there. In the mean time we've got everyone in there locked up nice and tight. No one's getting anywhere, assuming they can even see in the dark." the fourth guard mentioned.

"What do you suppose we're going to do with them?" the fourth guard asked, pointing towards the prisoners being held in the cafeteria.

"Warden wants them moved so we're going to have to go in there, cuff them and string them along together. Going to have to march them off like an old fashioned chain gang." the senior guard shrugged his shoulders and answered.

"All of them? I suppose that's too many for us to handle all at once. Why don't we them out in teams of ten, twelve or fifteen?" proposed the fourth guard.

"Not a bad idea, but it would take all day and we need this joint cleared out pronto. The army might want to use it and we can't have a bunch of filthy jailbirds stinking up the joint." the senior guard said.

The senior guard let out a deep sigh. "Now that you're out here we might as well get started." he stated.

He directed the other guards to grab extra cuffs and steel cords. The fourth guard went to the weapons locker and brought back a pair of shotguns, one of which he handed to the senior guard.

"You think we should use live ammo with these?" asked the fourth guard.

"No. Wait, you go get some live shells and stay out here just in case things get nasty. I'll go in with the rubber slugs." the lead guard told the fourth guard after about five seconds of deliberation.

After gathering their mental fortitude the guards entered into the cafeteria. Only the fourth guard with the live rounds and one other remained outside when the others entered in to restrain the prisoners for transport. The heightened state of fear brought on by the alien invasion led to them skipping protocol and being more than a bit sloppy in the performance of their duties. The prison staff would have been miles away by now. Most of the guards believed that is where they should be as well. They worried about their families, friends and homes. Their minds were several places besides focused on the task at hand. They just wanted to get this unpleasant business over and done with.

"Everyone against the wall with your hands behind your back!" shouted the lead guard as he entered the cafeteria.

The lead guard and the two on the catwalk pointed their guns towards the crowd of prisoners. For the most part the prisoners obeyed and walked slowly in single file to the far walls. Andre, Pope, Lopez and a couple others were intentionally sluffing along slowly. This agitated the lead guard who sent a pair of guards over to get them to pick up the pace. As the guards tried to force Andre along Pope started to laugh. The lead guard walked over to Pope and got in his face.

"What seems to be so amusing, funny man?" the lead guard asked in a demanding tone.

"Nothing, it's just you trying to push that big old grizzly bear over there. It's kind of comical." Pope chuckled and snorted.

Pope walked along until he came out from between the two tables. His crude shank was hidden in his fist while the lead guard got behind him and jabbed him with the shotgun to prod him along. Ahead of Pope, Cueball and another inmate started fighting each other over what was perceived to be one stepping on the other's toes.

"Stop that foolishness this instant!" the lead guard demanded.

When a guard went off to break up the fight Pope used the distraction to quickly get behind the lead guard, wrap his left arm under the guard's chin from behind and jab the pointed end of the shank into the side of his neck. Blood spurted out from the wound which had pierced the guard's carotid artery. At the same time Cueball and the second inmate attacked the guard sent to break up their supposed fight. This prompted the two guards who were prodding along Andre to tackled Cueball to the ground.

Pope seized the shotgun from the lead guard and fired it into the back of the neck of another guard that was wrestling Cueball to the ground. The gun spit out a rubber bullet that struck with enough force from where Pope was standing in relation to the officer to daze him, nearly rendering the guard unconscious.

"God damned rubber bullets." Pope cursed under his breath.

Pope used the body of the lead guard to shield him from two rubber bullets as the man bled to death before he discarded the body and helped other inmates move around him. Cueball pushed the stunned guard off of him and got up and slugged the second officer that was attempting to restrain him. Cueball's former sparring partner was hit with a rubber bullet fired from the catwalk. The slug hit the convict in the chest and knocked the wind out of him. Another rubber bullet was fired at Andre who blocked it with his massive forearm, leaving a round swollen bruise though it did not stop the mountain of a man from tackling a third guard. As Andre plowed the man to the ground he received a taser shock from one of the guards near the door. Andre growled and fought but he was brought to the floor. The other guard attempted to taze Pope however Pope pushed Lopez in front of him who absorbed the taser shock in his stead. A rubber bullet ricocheted off the table near Pope and pinged a random inmate in the back of the head. Pope retaliated by shooting his own rubber bullet into the crotch of the sniper on the catwalk. The guard dropped his gun and clutched his groin as he bent forwards in agony.

Under cues from Pope, Whitey sprinted over and snatched up the shotgun that had been dropped to the ground while the rest of the inmates joined in clubbing the remaining officers on the floor to submission. They disarmed them and slapped them in their own restraints but did not kill anyone other than the lead guard which Pope had slain. Whitey and Pope both pointed their weapons towards the last guard on the catwalk while Pope cocked his head to the side to draw the sniper and the two men outside's attention to the inmates holding sharpened utensils to the throats of two of the captive officers. Having achieved victory in claiming the cafeteria as his own Pope paraded around the table nearest to the door held his gun up in the air triumphantly. He climbed up onto the table and brandished his weapon prominently while eyeing the armed guard through the bars that separated him from the outer corridor.

"Listen up gentlemen! There is going to be a change of management at this facility!" Pope stood on top of the table and announced.

He held the shotgun pointed up at an angle to his side and smugly grinned.

"I want anyone who reeks of bacon brought in here and stood up against the wall with the other little piggies." Pope instructed the other prisoners.

They did as they were instructed and moved the guards to one area of the wall and chained them together. Several of the toughest looking prisoners remained with the officers while others went in front of Pope to stand between him from the officer outside's line of fire. They knew that Pope would be the intended target if the guard started shooting and were certain the guards did not have the bullets or the balls to shoot all of them.

"Now nobody else has to die today! All I ask is that you open the door, hand over the keys and kindly leave the building. Go home to your families, have a beer, put on some James Brown and enjoy whatever last minutes you have on this Earth before the big bad space bogeyman comes for you. If you cooperate you have my word that each and every one of these men will do you no harm." Pope declared.

"What good is the word of a scoundrel like you!" shouted one of the guards shackled together by the wall.

"It's as good as you're going to get little piggy. Now everyone relax and not one hair on your chinny chin chin will be harmed." Pope pledged.

"You, outside! Open the door and leave the keys on the ground. We'll give you a ten count to run before we do anything." Pope told the guard on the other side of the bars.

"Shit man, let's get out of here!" the guard next to the armed guard exclaimed before he took off and ran.

"Oh, don't be such a pansy ass little bitch come on! All we want is a shot to get through this, the same as you. Just open the door and leave the keys." Pope pleaded with the remaining guard.

The guard didn't want to give in to the prisoners' demands but he didn't have the heart to abandon the rest of the guards to the prisoners' whims either. This could be their last day on Earth; they should be spending it with those they care about, not locking horns with some two bit criminals on a rampage. What damage would these men do if he let them out? It couldn't be much worse than what the space invaders had already done. What if they escaped and raped or killed someone. These were extenuating circumstances in which serving justice took a back seat to survival in the guard's mind. There were no right choices, only wrong ones and no clear distinction which chose was worse than the other.

"Oh hurry up and decide already!" Pope complained after a few minutes went by.

"Tell you want. Every sixty seconds that door remains closed one of your buddies over here will die, ok? Starting, now!" Pope declared.

Pope looked over at the men holding the guards hostage and started to count down under his breath. The guards struggled to get free at the news of their impending doom but the prisoners, greater in number managed to restrain them. The fourth guard knowing he would be likely meeting his maker soon did not wish there to be blood on his hands when he did. He opened the door, dropped the keys and ran.

"What do you know? You can train a pig!" Pope announced in celebratory fashion.

"You, up top! Get the hell out of here!" Pope barked at the snipers on the catwalk.

He then stepped down from the table and walked over to pick up the keys. When he retrieved the keys he looked back at the inmates roughing up the guards that were trying to break free.

"Take them to the front door and send them packing on their way." Pope instructed the inmates.

The guards were led out of the cafeteria and towards the prison exit. Andre got up and dusted himself off, taking a cheap shot at the guard who tazed him as the guards were brought past him. Pope then gathered up Cueball, Whitey and Lopez and together they raided the equipment locker for some flashlights and live rounds for their shotguns before making rounds throughout the prison to release the other inmates who promised to play nice with the new prison administration. True to his word Pope had allowed the guards to leave the prison which left the institution in the hands of the prisoners themselves. The inmates were indeed running the asylum at this point.

Once the prison had been liberated it was assumed that they would all be heading off into the outside world, to freedom, now. Lopez was the first overzealous inmate to head for the front door. Pope spotted him while he was chumming up to other inmates whom he had graciously released from bondage. He suspended pleasantries and hurried to catch up with Lopez.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it Lopez." Pope said after getting in front of the big man and extending his open palm to Lopez's chest to hold him back.

"What? Isn't that what we broke out of here for? We're getting the hell out of this place!" Lopez replied in confusion.

"We will, we will but hold your horses buddy. Something outside has got the po-po's spooked. Maybe you don't want to go running straight out into that, you think?" Pope snidely postulated the notion to his hefty prison mate.

Cueball and Whitey approached Pope and Lopez both looking unsure of themselves and expecting the crafty, cunning John Pope to have a plan.

"So where do we go now?" asked Whitey.

"Strange as it may sound this prison may be the safest place to hang around. The pigs are gone and we have free reign over the joint now." Pope said as he looked around.

"You're crazy. They're just going to come back with more men and lock us up again." Lopez protested.

"Well then, why don't we look around town first then? If you like what you see you don't have to come back." Pope said sarcastically as he backed away and spread open his arms.

"Yo! Murphy! Come here!" Pope called over one of the inmates.

"What's up?" Murphy asked as he ran over to Pope.

"I want you to go poke your head outside and let us know what it looks like out there." Pope told him.

"Sure thing." Murphy agreed.

Murphy then walked past them and went out through the front door.

"Morons." mumbled Pope to himself.

He could always find a way to get stupid people to do his bidding he presumed. Pope smiled and turned back towards his two minions and led them into the prison warden's office where he sat down, propped his feet up and took over the administration of the facility. Meanwhile Murphy went outside the prison gate and looked around. The outer fence was smashed open with a deep dug furrow through the dirt leading to the wreckage of a small commuter jet. The fenced in corridor from the prison door to the outer gate still sealed Murphy in. He had to go back inside to fetch the set of keys to open the outer gate much to the amusement of Pope. Murphy returned along with a handful of other prisoners who had had enough of prison life and were ready to go back into the world. As he unlocked the gate metaphorically releasing the dam that held back society's dregs from the outside world the trickle of prisoners became a flood. In spite of Pope's advice the majority of the prisoners craved the taste of freedom more than any perceived safety behind the bars that had been their cage.

Upon wandering the area around the prison grounds for several minutes and seeing the blackened sky to the east along with the spattering of raging fires and billowing smoke glistening with the faint lights of alien aerial patrols Murphy became overcome with fear. He stood trembling looking towards the advancing veil of smoke and ash until a lone beamer buzzed by overhead and continued on into the west. He hurriedly walked off, nearly breaking into a run and went back into the prison. He first went to the cafeteria where Andre and ten other men had sat down for seconds on their interrupted breakfast complemented by some Kool-Aid based prison wine complements of Fred Giambiatti, a convicted murderer and extortionist. Feeling the need to lift his spirits he sat down in good company to have some of the home brew before going back to see Pope.

"Hey Murph! How is the great outdoors?" Pope sarcastically greeted him.

"You're right Pope. It's all gone to shit out there. Everything to the north and west is burning and those spaceships we saw on TV. They're real man, they are totally fucking real!" Murphy reported back.

"I told you that was a news program we were watching the other day but nooooo, you geniuses insisted it was Star Wars." Pope ridiculed him.

"So, space aliens are out there? You suppose they scared off all the cops?" asked Whitey.

"Duh, obviously. The po-pos clearly weren't run off by us." Pope answered.

"Aliens blew up Boston then." Murphy shrugged his shoulders and looked down.

"Guess I won't be won't be going to stay with my mama when I get out." he lamented.

"Buck up Murph!" Whitey encouraged Murphy while patting him hard on the bad. "It could be worse; we could be dealing with a zombie apocalypse." Whitey added.

"Whitey you dumbass this is worse than a zombie apocalypse. At least zombies can't think. They just walk towards you going braaaiiins braaaiiins giving you plenty of time to cap them or bash their skulls open with a hammer. They don't have spaceships that can level a city in a flash either." Pope refuted Whitey's claim.

"Nu uh man. Zombies can bite you and then you turn into a zombie too." Whitey argued back.

"What if these guys out there can tear your brain out and put it into a cyborg? Same thing." Pope argued.

"I can pick out a cyborg in a crowd, zombies man, they look just like us." Cueball chimed in.

"They are dead, rotting, falling apart, have all the vocabulary of a retarded hippo and smell like shit, are you telling me you can't pick that out of a crowd?" Pope asked in amazement until he sniffed the air and caught Cueball and Whitey's scent in the breeze.

"Whew, maybe you can't. Did you two ever shower before the power went out?" Pope asked.

"Umm, nope." Cueball replied.

"You know what they say about showers in prison." Whitey added.

"Nobody's tossing my salad." he quipped with a smirk.

"Yeah, I'm the chef in chef salad, not the salad." Cueball commented.

"I'll pretend I don't know what that meant." Pope said planting his face in his palm and running his fingers back over his face and through his hair.

"Whitey you have been here for five years and haven't taken but one shower. Geez man, the Romans invented plumbing for a reason." Pope derisively remarked.

Just then another pair of inmates barged in and interrupted them.

"What'cha bickering around?" asked one of the two men.

"Nothing important. What'cha got?" Pope answered.

"We checked out all the weapons lockers. The pigs didn't leave much behind for us. Out of what was left Jay Jay and his boys took most of it when they split." the man reported.

"That little chicken shit." Pope complained. "Oh well so what we got?" Pope asked.

"Four shotguns, a few odd tasers, a handgun, and all the cuffs and zip ties you can ask for." the man replied.

"Dre says the cafeteria's hella stocked as well." the other man added.

"I could tell you that. Remember I did work there." Pope said.

"Ah yeah, that was you handing off the slop during meal time." the second man said after thinking on it for a second.

"Ahem, I am a certified chef, my cooking is not slop." Pope chastised the man.

"Ok, then spicy slop." the man corrected himself.

"I think he's confusing certified with Cajun boss." Cueball commented.

"Whatever, so now I suppose we better go out and hit up the pawn shops for guns and ammo before Jay Jay and his wieners, I mean winners clean them out." Pope said as he took his feet down from the desk, sat up and scooted his chair back.

Pope stood up as the other men gathered around him. He waved them on and led them through the building picking up a few more convicts to assist them along the way out. Pope and his group walked into town. There were abandoned cars lined up on the empty streets. All the stores were deserted; a number of them had their windows broken or their doors smashed. The other men that left the prison had already fled the town and went off to put more distance between them and their former place of confinement. After wandering through the historic downtown and entering into a lower income neighborhood Pope sighted a mustard yellow sign of a pawn shop which dealt in firearms.

"Bingo! There's our place boys!" Pope called out to his men.

They walked up to the door and jiggled the doorknob, of course it was locked. The barred windows didn't offer much of a chance to get through that way. Pope looked back at his cohorts, some of which were rummaging through cars and trying to start them with no success.

"At least that shows this place hasn't been cleaned out yet." Pope mumbled to himself.

"Yo Cueball! Fish us up a crowbar and bust this door open." Pope shouted to Cueball who was fumbling through the glovebox of a brand new Lexus.

Cueball dropped what he was doing and went to check the spare tire compartments of various cars until he found the crowbar he needed. Cueball and another escaped inmate then took the crowbar along with a sledge hammer from a nearby construction site. The other inmate smashed off the doorknob with the hammer and backed off for Cueball to pry the door to the pawn shop open. Cueball grunted as he jammed the crowbar between the door and the door frame and with enough effort eventually the door came flying open.

"Woo hoo!" Cueball cheered and stepped aside for Pope, Whitey and Lopez to enter into the shop.

Inside the convicts thumbed through the items they saw. Some of them picked up tools and guitars while perusing through the shadows of the small shop. Lopez took off Whitey's shirt, rolled it up around his fist and smashed it through the display cases that held the jewelry and guns. While those that didn't grasp the apocalypse was upon them snatched up the jewelry and gold coins Pope made his way towards the guns. He tossed his shotgun back to Whitey as he took possession of an M1 Garand rifle hanging up on display. It was in excellent condition and it could fire both the .308 Winchester rounds in stock at the pawn shop and some of the surplus military ammo they might find lying around on the ground in the wake of an expected alien invasion. Lopez took a pair of .357 Magnum Colt revolvers while Cueball and Whitey took Glocks. Two of the other inmates took hunting rifles, another took a pair of Bowie knives and Murphy took a modern crossbow off the wall. After taking all the arms that the pawn shop had to give them, 8 out of their gang of 18 were armed with ranged weapons. The rest took hammers, crowbars, garden hoes and other improvised melee weapons to arm themselves. They were now equipped to fend off both human and alien aggression should anyone or anything think to mess with them.

When the gang left the pawn shop they found Andre and two of his sidekicks running towards them. Pope's crew stopped and Pope calmly waited for Andre to get closer to him. He cocked his head to the side and brushed his hair back with his free hand.

"What's the hurry Dre?" Pope asked.

Andre stopped and hunched over panting. It was strange to see such a big strong man winded like this. Must have run a long way Pope assumed.

"Motherfucking Army showed up at the prison. We got into a little scuffle; they shot five of ours and stuffed the rest back into cell block D." Andre told Pope before standing up straight to face him.

"So did you get any of them?" Pope asked without showing the least bit of concern.

"We dropped two and I bashed one of the little peckerwood's faces in before we got the hell out of there." Andre said, angrily reflecting on the brief dust up that had just occurred at the prison.

Pope twirled around back to his boys waiting around behind him. "Shit, looks like GI Joe is rolling into town." Pope said then walked over beside Andre.

"You'd think they would probably send someone to follow you." Pope said before he leaned towards Andre and whispered "You're not done running yet."

"So where do we go now?" asked Lopez.

"Not to worry my band of merry men, Robbin the Hood's got an idea!" Pope declared as he strutted halfway between Andre and Lopez.

"My brother Billy's got a place in over in Acton. That son of a bitch is so lazy not even the alien apocalypse can get him out of bed, unless they brought hookers. We can head over that way and hide out for a while. Let the army and the aliens slug it out for a bit." Pope suggested.

"There they are!" an army scout shouted from around the block behind Andre thereby disrupting the conversation Pope was having with his men.

Andre and Lopez opened fire on the scout and his partner forcing them to take shelter behind the corner of a cafe. The prisoners then ran for it before the soldiers returned fire. The scout started to run into the street after them but was restrained by his partner as Pope's crew slipped down a side street.

"Let them go. There's too many of them." the scout's partner told him.

The scout reluctantly acquiesced to the order and the two soldiers went back to the prison where the first truckload of soldiers had arrived. Meanwhile Pope and his gang fled slightly further away from the expanding canopy of darkness and despair floating in from Boston as they made their way northwest towards Pope's brother's house in Acton.


	9. Chapter 9: Dazed and Confused

Chapter IX: Dazed and Confused

4 Oct 1010 EDT

Framingham, MA, United States

Maggie rolled out of bed, hazy, groggy and somewhat delusional. While the rest of the city was in tumult over the alien attack she had literally slept through the whole thing. After she was now six weeks out of rehab and living in a halfway house Maggie had slipped into a full on relapse last night. She had been out cold through the bombardment, the panic and subsequent flight of the local population. By the time she had awoken the whole town had gone silent. The halfway house in which she had resided was now empty. Someone had tried to wake her up during the attack but the barbiturates had induced such a comatose state that the woman who had tried to rouse her mistook her for dead before she fled for her own life. Maggie sat up on the edge of her bed and groaned, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the light. Her vision was blurred initially, a side effect from the drugs, but slowly came into focus and she could see that the room was deserted. Her roommates' beds were left unmade and the room was a complete disheveled mess. A fine coating of dust that had been shaken from the ceiling coated the entire room. There were tissues, towels, clothing and their personal effects strewn across the floor. The drawers had been yanked out of the dresser and makeup, grape juice and water were spilt over the countertop. The door to her room was left open and swinging ever so slightly on its loosened hinges. The smoke and dust blanketing the sky had darkened the morning light making it appear as if it was early dawn outside despite the fact Maggie had slept hours well past breakfast.

"Lucille? Amy? Are you guys here?" Maggie called out. Her voice echoed from her room into the empty hallways.

There was no response. Maggie stretched her arms above her head and yawned then rubbed her eyes. Her throat felt parched and she had the beginnings of a splitting headache. She stood up, still a bit disoriented on shaky legs and walked over to the shelf by the vanity mirror in the room. She fumbled around and picked up a half empty bottle of water on the countertop and swished it down. She had no idea whose it had been but cared not about backwash at this moment. She then stumbled over to the shared bathroom between her room and the one next door. She flipped on the light switch but nothing happened. Puzzled, she flipped it on and off again a few times and still the bulb remained dark. "Maintenance man needs to change the light bulb." she thought to herself. She reached around and found the water knobs on the sink and turned them; nothing came out of the faucet.

"No water either." Maggie whispered.

She walked back to her bed and grabbed her shoes along with a lightly worn pair of socks from a few days ago and sat down on the bed to put them on. After a few minutes of mentally fighting herself over whether to get up or flop back down on the mattress and pass out Maggie decided to head out the door into the hallway. She found the entire building empty as she staggered through the halls. Her headache was killing her, the pain and sensitivity only adding to the delirium brought on by her dehydration, fatigue and residual effects from the drugs. She grasped her head, right around where the two holes from the surgery had been drilled, and pushed as if that would make the headache stop. Of course it didn't. Every room she checked was in a similar state of disarray as her own. It appeared as if everyone in the halfway house was in such a rush to leave.

"Troy, Elsa? Anyone home?" Maggie called out before peeking into the cracked open door of another room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Maggie whispered in bewilderment to an empty house.

She went downstairs to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. The air escaping from the fridge wasn't as cool as she expected. It took her a while for it to register that the refrigerator wasn't running and what she had felt was just the residual chill that had been trapped inside a couple hours ago which hadn't had a chance to equalize with the temperature outside yet. Maggie took out a carton of milk and some eggs. The milk was still cold and smelled fine so she poured herself a glass. She turned on the stove, or at least she thought she did, and cracked three eggs onto a frying pan. The eggs just rolled around like Jell-O over the pan. Of course, power's out no juice for the electric stove thought Maggie. This headache was really jamming up her train of thought.

"Girl you are so off your game today." Maggie bemoaned herself.

She drank the milk and tossed the eggs into the trash. For breakfast she instead opted for room temperature pop-tarts. As she was eating she heard a sound like thunder coming from outside. She got up and pulled back the drapes over one of the windows assuming it was storming out. She saw an overcast sky covered with dark grey and black clouds. She hadn't thought to recognize these clouds as being smoke but rather her mind saw the mundane. Storm clouds, she assumed, storm clouds with no rain but there was thunder coming from the east which meant the bad weather had either already passed her by or was on its way. The streets seemed strangely deserted; none of the usual light foot traffic was present outside the dining room window. She didn't notice or her mind didn't register the cars parked out in the middle of the street. There was a general sense that something was amiss today but the panic alarm in Maggie's mind had not gone off yet. She finished her breakfast only to have to throw it up several minutes later. After she came out of the restroom she wandered the downstairs of the halfway house to see if anyone else was still hiding out there. She was all alone; this place had never been this empty ever since Maggie had arrived. There had to be a reason everyone left. If there was then what was the reason that she was left behind? She felt a little betrayed, it didn't stab her too deep as these people barely knew her and she couldn't really call any of them friends. She could call them associates, kindred spirits, sympathizers, fellow lost souls perhaps but they weren't real friends; their actions abandoning her here had proven that.

"So they're all gone." Maggie whispered to herself.

They must have bailed fast with good cause Maggie reasoned; perhaps she should do the same. Where would she go, she wondered. She wasn't exactly on the best terms with her family and she had no friends around here that would take her in. Everyone else at the halfway house probably didn't have much of a plan lined up when they left either. When in Rome, she thought as walked out the front door.

When she walked out onto the street only then did she grasp the gravity of the situation. Cars were dead and abandoned on the right of way. Some of the vehicles had their doors left open; a few of them had their trunks popped open as well. There were clothes and personal effects littered about on the ground. Maggie nearly tripped over a loose shoe as she lumbered in a daze amongst the shadow of what had been a vibrant town.

"Can people be any more careless?" she grumbled over the items left lying around.

The sound of thunder boomed again from the east drawing Maggie's gaze in its direction. The gray overcast skies became progressively thicker and blacker the further away they were. Now she was out in the suburbs so the downtown skyline of Boston was too far away for Maggie to see what was going on with the aliens who had now concentrated their local operations in that area. When there had been numerous flyovers while she slumbered now the grey skies above her gave her no evidence of otherworldly activity. The scent of smoke was not detectable to her nose at this range as the air currents kept the ash cloud canopy far enough above her that it was in her eyes still indistinguishable from storm clouds.

Curiously, Maggie wandered through the town streets. It was like this everywhere she went; no people, homes, cars and businesses were deserted. For what seemed like hours she wandered aimlessly about town. She passed through a residential neighborhood of modest to below average homes. Like where she had come from again it looked as if it had been abandoned in haste; cars were parked in the driveways, the doors to several homes left flung open with a trail of dropped goods leading out of them. She gasped as she saw the body of a man lying on his back in the street behind a maroon sedan. He had bruises on his face and arms and his pockets out turned. This was the first person she had seen all day and the first sight that jolted her into realizing something really bad had happened. With her curiosity tainted by a growing sense of dread Maggie wandered on into a mixed commercial and residential district. A few shop windows were smashed; there were a number of fender benders in more congested parts of the road as she got up around route 9. She noticed a slight spattering of blood on the rear window of a silver Camaro as she passed by. It was no longer a pristine ghost town any more. Maggie's fear deepened yet she was drawn on in her hungover stupor, the aches and withdrawals still dominating much of her thought process. The destruction she saw was minimal, alarming but by no means apocalyptic in proportion. It was not the aftermath of the chaos that erupted in Boston which she was blissfully unaware of. The stores which had been broken into fell mainly into two categories: grocery stores, pharmacies and those containing essential wares for survival and high end electronics and jewelry stores. The robberies of one were likely triggered by need, the other by greed. Not all of the break ins left behind evidence of their occurrence either. Several businesses that had been opened were abandoned with such haste that their doors were unlocked or even left open. The owner of a small Army/Navy store had even opened his doors intentionally to supply what survival gear he had in his wares to the people before they fled the city. Again distant thunder roared, she looked up at the darkened sky and watched the thick viscous clouds drift about. Overcome with a sense of vertigo she stumbled backwards barely catching herself before she fell.

"Let's not do that again." Maggie told herself.

In her wanderings she made her way northeast into Natick, somehow being drawn closer to the black clouds by her curiosity. As fine ash began to trickle down from the sky, which Maggie mistook for a precursor to rain, she went inside the Natick Mall to allow the storm to pass. With a potent thirst she first headed towards the food court. Along the way she noticed the display window to the Apple store had been shattered and the majority of the merchandise had been carried away. Like the town the mall showed signs of a hasty retreat though the looting and loose items strewn about were less prevalent here. The Apple store and a couple other shops with high demand products, albeit those that were essentially useless after the alien EMP weapon had struck, were the only ones hit. The mall in fact had not opened yet so only the night crew and a couple members of the opening staff were here when everything got crazy. When Maggie reached the food court she hopped behind the counter at Subway and got herself something to drink. She then proceeded to make herself a sandwich; maybe this time her breakfast would stay down.

Outside a large crowd of people passed by. Due to the food court's location near one of the mall entrances she could both see and hear them as they went by. Unbeknownst to Maggie this was the exodus led by Tom Mason to the hospital in Framingham. Seeing as she was essentially stealing from Subway, Maggie ducked down under the counter until the crowd had passed. The brief bustle of human activity only lasted a few minutes before it was gone. It had failed to resuscitate a lively spirit to the area and Maggie was left with a ghost town once again. As she got up and made sure the coast was clear she pondered whether or not she should follow after those people and find out what was going on. Her better judgement cautioned her against it, she had no idea what type of people those were and she wasn't exactly in the most presentable form herself at the moment.

She finished topping her sandwich, mixing ingredients and jumbo sizing it to such a degree that Subway would have never allowed. She christened her sandwich the double Maggie deluxe and bit down. The moment that first bite went down was when she truly realized how hungry she was. She must have had a period of prolonged fasting leading into and during the bender she was coming off of and whatever was left had all been vomited up this morning. Come to think of it her memory of the past couple days was spotty at best. The notion of aliens arriving at Earth seemed to be more of the flashback from an acid trip than actual memories to her; this was why she completely discounted anything to do with the visitors when she saw the deserted town this morning. Her memory in general wasn't faring too well this morning either. It could have been the drugs in her system or a lingering side effect from the surgeries that removed the cancer from her head all those years ago or perhaps a combination of the two. Needless to say her brain hadn't exactly been treated with the utmost kindness throughout her life and yet she still managed to come out a quick witted, bright young woman when she wasn't lit up. That was another thing she thought about; having fully rehabbed before she knew the withdrawals would only get worse and her cravings would be hard to overcome. Where would she get the goods now to feed her habit if people had just up and left? There were pharmacies around she supposed she could swipe painkillers from, maybe snag some methadone or morphine from clinics and hospitals as well. Meth wasn't her drug of choice so the idea of cooking up her own didn't even occur to her. She supposed that maybe back in Boston things were different and her old hookups might still be out working the streets. Then she remembered the skies looked worse in that direction and realized that was probably not a good idea. Maybe she could find new sources in other towns, if Boston was worse for whatever had happened then if she headed west then things would be better. She could go to Worcester and see what they had to offer there. That was exactly what she would do. Go west, young woman, go west.


	10. Chapter 10: Triage

Chapter X: Triage

4 Oct 1020 EDT

Cambridge, MA, United States

After the bombing ceased and the pickle shaped transport ships began to descend from the heavens Anne, Lourdes and Dr. Harris continued to treat the remaining patients at the hospital. They started with the most immediate and severe wounds that had come in and left those who had required long term care under periodic observation by low level hospital staff in between the more pressing matters at hand. With the minor cuts, burns and bruises now gone the majority of the patients at the hospital were those who had been injured during automobile wrecks caused by the initial attack and in the subsequent mass panic that followed. Cases of head trauma, spinal injuries and broken bones were the bulk of these cases. Some of the older patients had suffered heart attacks, strokes and seizures and were being treated for those conditions. There were a few that had been badly burned by being too close to certain types of electrical equipment that had exploded and a handful of people who had been beaten or trampled by others fleeing the area. The hospital had lost a few patients and managed to stabilize several others. The patients that had been on life support when the hospital went dark were or would be counted among those who had perished. In spite of efforts to repair the hospital's backup generator they had still not restored power and couldn't expect to in time to save them. With fears mounting of an alien ground invasion about to take place a short distance from where they were the doctors, nurses, remaining staff and volunteers made a desperate bid to prepare their patients for relocation. This was difficult as everyone who could walk at a reasonable pace had already departed with Tom and Rebecca to Framingham. The first problem was equipment; those who could safely move at all could only do so with the aid of crutches, wheelchairs or walkers. They had no operational vehicles to transport the immobilized and insufficient staff to assist them on foot. Also there were several who were paralyzed or temporarily immobilized by their injuries along with the permanent invalids and the bedridden elderly patients. These required stretchers or rolling tables and beds to move. The hospital had quickly cleaned out its supply of wheelchairs and stretchers but it wasn't enough for everyone. They sent out the less skilled volunteers to find wheelbarrows and wagons from the yards and garages of people's houses nearby to alleviate some of this demand. The other problem was time, with so many injuries to treat and so little time it seemed before they had to abandon the premises there was no way they could save them all.

Lourdes did not realize this for her faith had assured her that things would work out and that they would, by the grace of God find a way. Anne understood the inevitability that they would be forced to leave some people behind but she refused to admit it and worked fervently to prevent that actuality from coming to pass. Dr. Harris however accepted that fact and embraced it. He knew that in times of crisis one could not be guided by emotion. A pragmatic solution to the problem wouldn't be kind but it was the best way forward. Dr. Harris had just abandoned CPR on a cardiac patient claiming he was a lost cause and walked briskly over to Anne and pulled her aside for a minute after she hastily applied a cast to a compound fracture of the left femur on a husky male patient.

"We're working as fast as we can. I've set more bones back in place today than I can remember." Anne told him, supposing that he was going to tell her to step up the pace.

"You're doing fine Dr. Glass. The whole staff is working so hard right now it's amazing, however we're not working smart enough. We need to start looking at those we have a reasonable chance to save. If we can't get someone ready and able to hobble out of here in the next hour or so there is nothing we can do for them. I know it sounds cold but we have to think in terms of what is the greatest good we can do for the greatest number now. I'm about to go talk to the chief of staff in a minute I just wanted to let you know to stick to those we can move ok." Dr. Harris told Anne.

He then walked away to find the chief of staff before Anne had a chance to respond. As he went along he gave the same instructions to the other doctors that he gave to Anne, in a manner as if he had authority to do so.

"Ok." Anne said after Dr. Harris was long gone.

Her heart sank in her chest. She knew she was going to have to do this, and she wasn't really the one treating the people that they would inevitably have to give up on. It was an advantage being a pediatrician had over being a cardiologist, surgeon or oncologist at a time like this. She knew the chief of staff would go for it and that Harris' plan would be the plan. The chief of staff was a compassionate man but before that he was also a dollars and cents kind of guy, and in a way evacuation triage was a lesson in economics.

Anne continued to work diligently, next seeing to a little boy who had been hit by a station wagon that had lost control when the engine died. He likely had several bruised ribs, a fractured pelvis and discoloration of the skin that could indicate internal bleeding though she hoped it was just a bad surface bruise. The boy had to alleviate pressure from the right side of his body and not bend or twist in that direction or he would be in intense pain. With expediency in mind all Anne could do was send one of the orderlies to retrieve the child a wheelchair and a pillow so that he could be moved when the hospital was fully evacuated. She then went on to the next patient and the next, doing what she could for each of them. She had a kind heart and genuinely felt for her patients, especially the very young and very old. This kind of hasty diagnosis and half-assed treatment was against her nature so she found herself having to force herself to pull away from one patient to get on to the next. Still she performed her job admirably.

Anne hadn't thought much of her family at first, supposing that her husband would take her son and meet her here after things got bad. They knew where she was and it would be more reliable for them to find her than for her to go looking for them, surely they wouldn't remain in their home. Time went by and Anne saw no trace of her husband. After more than an hour had passed she began to worry. He must have been delayed she told herself in an attempt to quell her fear. Roads and bridges were out, there were disabled vehicles everywhere, looting and pandemonium were widespread, he must have had to take the long way around. She only really started worrying about them moments before the questions she never had a chance to ask herself were answered.

A car horn beeped multiple times as an RV drove into the hospital parking lot where Anne was working on wrapping a man's abdomen in gauze. She looked up briefly to see what it was. The shock that it was still running did not register, the new normal of cars being giant paperweights had not yet set in. What did pique her interest is that she recognized that RV. It was just like the one her aunt and uncle would take down south for the winter on occasion.

In fact it was none other than the vehicle Anne believed it to be. Uncle Scott and Aunt Kate got out of the RV along with Anne's son Sam. Sam immediately ran towards his mother once his feet touched the ground. Anne finished up the job she was doing and turned towards Sam before taking another patient. Anne stooped over and embraced her son as he ran into her arms. She was overjoyed to see him there unharmed.

"Oh my God, Sam, I was so worried about you." Anne said, though she had only started to worry.

"Nothing to worry about Mom." the boy said in a chipper voice.

On the outside the crisis didn't seem to affect Sam, or he was just too young to understand what was going on. It was sort of like how someone that never has been in a tornado or a fire finds the school fire and tornado drills to be a bit of fun and games. To Sam the power going out and everyone running around crazy just felt like that. So far in the young boy's mind he had nothing to worry about.

"It was fun riding with Uncle Scott." Sam continued.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Anne said cheerfully. She then stood up and looked over towards Uncle Scott, beaming a smile at him that she had not smiled since before the loud boom hit this morning.

"How did you get that old jalopy to start?" Anne asked.

"I was still finishing up repairs on her when the first wave of the attack happened. Everything was disconnected so I suppose the surge that fried everything else couldn't complete a circuit. Besides these old snowbirds don't have a lot of fancy electronics in them. It's all mechanical, gears and linkage." Scott explained.

"They sure don't make them like they used to." he boasted while setting his hand down upon the front mirror. His weight shifting caused the mirror to twist and droop down.

"They sure don't" Anne giggled.

"Where's Lee?" asked Anne supposing her husband was still in the RV.

"He said he had to go back to the house to get a few things. He took the charger so I'm surprised he didn't beat us here." answered Uncle Scott.

"Look! Over there!" one of the doctors shouted pointing towards the southeast.

Anne, Scott and Sam all turned in the direction the doctor was pointing in to see what was going on. Anne held Sam close beside her as she witnessed what was the beginning of an invasion. Sam didn't know what was going on but he could sense the fear within his mother and it began to spread onto him. The hospital staff and patients both inside and in the parking lot watched in horror as the sight of extensions dropping down from the transports onto distant streets indicated the clock was winding down against them. It would not be long before the aliens were among them in the flesh.

"Alright everyone! We have to get going now!" Dr. Harris came out of the hospital shouting to the medical personnel.

"Get these people ready to move!" Harris ordered.

He walked side by side with the chief of staff ahead of several nurses rolling out patients on gurneys from inside. The doctors, nurses and volunteers promptly got as many patients as they could ready to leave and began to assemble on the west side of the parking lot. Knowing she had no time left to see anyone new Anne now turned her thoughts towards her own family. She directed a male nurse to handle the patients she had left, to see which ones could be moved and which ones would have to have the bad news broken to them. It seemed however the lie of "someone will be with you shortly." suited the hospital staff in order not to tell the patients which they were going to leave behind that they would be abandoned.

While this was going on Anne took Sam over to Uncle Scott. "I'm going back to look for Lee. Could you watch Sam just a few minutes more?" Anne asked Uncle Scott and Aunt Kate.

"I suppose so. You would have to go back on foot. All the roads going back that way are blocked now. We barely made it through before one of those flyers knocked down the underpass we went through." Uncle Scott informed Anne.

"That's fine. It's not that far away and the spaceships have stopped blowing things up for now. I'll be back in under an hour." Anne told him.

"It looks like the head honcho wants us to be long gone when you get back. Do you know where we're going or do you want us to wait for you here?" Scott asked.

"Go ahead and go. They're relocating to Framingham, I know the place. We already sent one group out that way earlier." Anne replied.

"Alright then." Uncle Scott replied.

Anne then knelt down to Sam and looked sincerely at him. He could tell the seriousness of the situation by the look in her eyes, further wearing away the happiness he had minutes earlier. Still he did not understand what troubled his mother. He was not afraid; rather he was saddened that she was afraid.

"Sam honey, I need you to say with Uncle Scott and Aunt Kate a little while longer. Mommy will see you after you get to the new hospital in Framingham. It's different than the one mommy works at so you can see some new things over there. I'll be right over as soon as I go and get your daddy ok?" Anne explained to her son.

"Ok mom." Sam replied.

"Ok. Maybe you and Aunt Kate can play connect four or something to pass the time; you know how she has all those board games in that RV." Anne said rubbing her thumb down Sam's chin and then patting him on the shoulder before she got up.

She looked over at Uncle Scott not needing to say a word. The feeling was understood, she knew he would take good care of her only son.

"Anne, good luck." Uncle Scott wished her well.

Anne nodded and walked off at a rapid pace but didn't break into a run; she did not want to further alarm Sam who was watching her go. The child seemed alright so far, thank God for the innocence of children she thought. A clear mind and a calm heart was the best gift she could give him now. Once she was out of sight it would be like a brisk morning jog for her to make it back to her house to check on her husband.

"Come on Sam; let's go back in the RV. Your aunt will sit with you in the back." Uncle Scott told Sam as he sent him away.

Sam went running off to the RV and climbed on board where he met his aunt and started talking about all manner of childish things. Before Uncle Scott could return to his vehicle he was approached by a slender middle aged doctor.

"Sir could we use your RV to move some of our patients, we haven't enough equipment to take everyone all at once?" the doctor asked Uncle Scott in a low voice taking heed not to be heard by those who would be abandoned nearby.

"Certainly. We could probably fit four in there comfortably, maybe six if you really pack them in." Scott replied.

"Thank you." the doctor replied and quickly turned back to his business.

The staff loaded the patients in Uncle Scott's RV packing them in the squeeze as many people on board as possible. To make room Sam relocated to the passenger seat while Kate sat down in between the two seats and held the front gurney back with her hand so that it didn't happen to slide forward when they hit a bump. All in all they managed to squeeze eight people into the RV. Afterwards a nurse informed Uncle Scott of where they were going.

"Do you want me to come back and pick up more once I get these people there?" asked Uncle Scott.

"No. Once you're in Framingham you'll need to stay there. By the time you get back we fear this place may be. ." the nurse started to say but stopped when he noticed Sam paying attention. ". . .compromised." the nurse continued using an ambiguous term.

The nurse then joined those pushing gurneys and stretchers along next to a column of wheelchair ridden patients. Uncle Scott looked in their direction, adjusted his mirrors and then drove off as the vanguard of the second exodus from the hospital. In his rear view mirror off to the edge of his peripheral vision, Uncle Scott saw the transport ship's tendrils lash the ground. As the rest started to follow after him Lourdes looked back at the people they had left in and around the hospital, some of which had now begun to realize what was going on and cried out to the withdrawing medical personnel.

"Wait! Don't leave us!" one man shouted.

"Come back!" said an elderly woman.

"You can't just leave us here!" a younger woman screeched.

"What about your hippopotamus oath!" a teenage boy cried out.

"Hippocratic Oath, but yeah what about that!" a man said in anger.

"Please! Come back!" another person begged.

"I have a lot of money! I'll pay you anything if you take me instead!" pleaded a rotund older man who had been paralyzed from the neck down from falling out a window during the initial attack.

The cries became more numerous as the knowledge spread amongst the conscious invalids, first in fear, then in anger, lastly in desperation.

Lourdes looked over to Dr. Harris with sorrow in her eyes. "What about them?" she asked him.

"We can't do anything for them." Dr. Harris replied.

Lourdes heart was filled with disdain and disgust for Dr. Harris. Utilitarianism wasn't a philosophy she was inclined to embrace. She being a lowly student intern had no say in what went on with the real doctors here and sadly accepted that the die was cast. It still didn't lessen the feelings of revulsion she had, though most of all she felt a mournful compassion for those they left behind. Lourdes turned and faced forward as she pushed the wheelchair of her patient along. She bowed her head slightly and began to pray silently for those whose fate had been left to the invaders. May the Lord show those people more mercy than their fellow man did today, for soon they would be in the arms of their heavenly father. In truth no one felt good about what they did, but they each had different ways of accepting it. This was the first of many sacrifices and difficult choices that would have to be made in the human race's attempts to survive the nightmare descending upon them.


	11. Chapter 11: Through the Ruins

Chapter XI: Through the Ruins

4 Oct 1153 EDT

Hanscom AFB, Bedford, MA, United States

Weaver and his company had now reached what remained of Hanscom Air Force Base after a swift march through town, intermittently running a few miles off and on in order to make better time but not overly exhaust his men in the process. When they arrived they found the smoldering ruins of buildings and planes thoroughly burned into blackened husks of their former selves. Scattered flames still flickered through the charred remnants and thick smoke still arose from the wrecked larger structures of the base while the smaller ruins released faint trails of wispy gray smoke as the mounds of smoldering building materials turned to ash. The stared at the destruction in horror though they were not surprised at what they found.

"My God, we're too late." gasped Weaver.

"Fan out. Check for survivors. We'll meet at the south gate in an hour." Weaver instructed his men.

They looked through the ruins of Hanscom finding no survivors in the wreckage. They did however manage to acquire some weapons that had been left lying around. Weaver's men gathered up the bodies and laid them side by side in a common location.

"Should we bury them?" asked a soldier.

"Not yet. Their families could still come looking for them. Let us leave them here for them to identify their loved ones before they're put in the ground." Weaver replied.

If he had friends or family stationed here he would have liked to know what happened to them. By leaving the unburied it allowed the family one last chance to see their loved out, that is assuming the family was still alive. Weaver also had Sergeant Healey take down the names of the soldiers from their uniform if they could be identified in case they ran into any people looking.

The rescue mission then became more of a salvage mission as Weaver's men continued to recover whatever usable arms and equipment they could carry. As they went around the base a few soldiers noticed tire tracks where it appeared several vehicles had peeled out of there quickly. Another soldier who had scouted ahead also came running back to report his findings to Weaver.

"Sir, I saw an abandoned Humvee on the road near the south gate; might be worth checking out." the soldier reported.

Weaver looked around and saw men that had been working tirelessly after marching for miles. They could use some time off their feet. He also saw more equipment gathered together than they could carry. So as a solution to both concerns the Humvee was definitely worth checking out. It might be one of the few vehicles that were still operational. Some military equipment, depending on the type and date of manufacture, was hardened to resist an EMP attack. Even if it wasn't it was still worth a shot.

Weaver gathered his men and they walked over towards where the Humvee was, about three quarters of a mile down the road past the south gate of the base. It looked fine only it was boxed in by several cars that had been paralyzed around it. He sent a couple men over to check it out along with a few more to get to work on moving the cars that blocked it off out of the way. Weaver and the rest of his men surveyed the area as they slowly followed behind those whom they sent in advance. There was a wide enough path through the light sprinkling of a couple disabled cars here and there on the civilian road. He also noticed along the route heading way from the base that there were scratches and dents in the sides of some of the vehicles that lined the roads. Mirrors had been torn off the sides of vehicles in an apparent hasty retreat by someone down this road. Possibly some of the base personnel had managed to escape Weaver deduced. Weaver's ears perked up when he heard the Humvee start.

"She runs! Purrs like a kitten!" a soldier leaned out of the Humvee and exclaimed.

"More like a bobcat." chuckled Weaver.

His attention was soon drawn elsewhere. "Sir! There's someone alive in here!" one of the soldiers shouted back to Weaver from the side of a minivan that was partially leaning into the ditch next to the abandoned Humvee.

Weaver and five men accompanying him ran over to see what their comrade was talking about. The front of the van had been smashed into the back of a jacked up oversized pickup truck leaving a grizzly scene with a pair of mangled corpses in the driver and passenger seats. In the back seat of the van through its tinted windows the troops caught the motion of scared child trapped inside the van.

"What are you waiting for Corporal? Open her up." Weaver ordered.

The soldier tapped on the window to get the boy's attention.

"Hey kid, could you unlock the door. We're with the government and we're here to help." the soldier on the side told the boy.

"You should never say those words; you'll scare people." laughed another soldier.

The boy crawled into the middle seats of the van and unlocked the door. The soldier then attempted to slide the side door open but it would not budge.

"The sliding doors are jammed. I need you to help me pry it open." the soldier said after tugging on the van's side door.

"We could always just break the rear glass." suggested another.

"Kid you might want to get down." the soldier on the side of the van tapped on the window and instructed the boy.

A third solider pointed his rifle towards the back glass and waited for the order to shoot.

"Not like that you knucklehead." Weaver admonished the soldier.

"Let's try popping the side door open first. I'd rather not get the kid all scratched up if we don't have to." Weaver suggested.

"I found this." another soldier said holding up a crowbar he found in the trunk of one of the vehicles he was going through.

"I found some clothes over here." another chimed in.

Using the crowbar and the cooperation of three men working in unison they forced open the stubborn van door and helped the boy out. He was a round faced, brown haired kid about 12 years old, on the cusp of puberty but not yet into those awkward years between childhood and manhood. With aliens bombing the planet it seemed like this kid was woefully going to miss out on those last few years of childhood though. The boy was both terrified and at the same time relieved. He had thought he would die in that car, right next to his parents. His eyes were red and bloodshot from the tears he had been crying in private less than an hour ago, when he was still enthralled by his grief, before he gave into despair. He wanted to thank the soldiers but was too scared to say anything. He wouldn't have to; Weaver understood his gratitude was there and would also do the hard work of initiating the conversation to help the boy feel a little more at ease with his frightful predicament.

"How long have you been trapped inside that car?" Weaver asked.

"Since it started sir." the boy timidly replied.

"The attack?" Weaver inquired.

"Yes sir." the boy replied.

Weaver rubbed his face. "That's a mighty long time to be in there. You'll be all right now." Weaver assured him.

"Were those your parents?" Weaver asked as he directed his men to carefully remove the bodies from the front seat of the vehicle as to not mutilate them any more than they already were.

The boy nodded and sniffled, unable to bring himself to speak.

"I'm sorry that happened to you." Weaver offered his condolences.

"They'll be given a proper burial, I assure you of that." Weaver told the boy.

"Load them up in the back of that Humvee and cover them up. We'll find us a cemetery when we get stopped or make one ourselves." Weaver instructed his men.

He then turned back to the sniffling child.

"What's your name son?" Weaver asked

"Jimmy, Jimmy Boland sir." the boy replied.

"Well Jimmy, nice to meet you. I'm Captain Daniel Weaver and these are my soldiers." Weaver introduced himself.

"We'll take care of you until we a safe place where you can stay with other kids." he promised Jimmy.

"I saw other soldiers earlier." Jimmy mentioned.

"Where?" Weaver inquired.

"They were leaving the base, it was a couple of hours ago maybe, I don't have a clock. It was after the UFO's dive bombed the airfield up there. I saw the trucks head that way but I was trapped in here and couldn't get their attention when they passed." Jimmy explained.

"Damned tinted windows." muttered one of the soldiers.

It also didn't help that the view of Jimmy's van was obscured by the parked Humvee.

"That's over towards Concord. You think they're still there?" Healey asked.

"It's worth a look." Weaver replied.

"Worst thing that could come from it is we get further away from that mess in Boston." Weaver added.

"Jimmy why don't you hop up there in that Humvee; you can ride shotgun with me ok?" Weaver told Jimmy.

Jimmy nodded his head and ran off to get into the Humvee. Meanwhile Weaver and his soldiers cleared a path, loaded the Humvee up and got ready to move out. Weaver and another soldier climbed into the Humvee to lead the way while the rest followed them on foot. They would a slow pace this time, taking care not to wear out his men on the journey because soon enough they would likely need their strength to fight. Weaver knew that the aliens had ample time to secure their landing site in Boston. Once their ground forces had occupied the city they would undoubtedly move outward and claim more of the Boston suburbs and surrounding countryside for their own. Concord was about as far as Weaver was willing to push his men before letting them rest and recuperate. God willing enough soldiers had indeed escaped from Hanscom and were entrenched at Concord waiting for Weaver and others to arrive though the possibility existed they would find nothing but a ghost town when they got there. Either way according to Weaver the resistance would be born at Concord. It was shaping up to look like that was where humanity would make its first real stand against the invaders and so Weaver's unit with young Jimmy Boland in tow made their way to the once pleasant small town of Concord.


	12. Chapter 12: Regroup

Chapter XII: Regroup

4 Oct 1301 EDT

Concord MA

Weaver's Humvee crept into Concord keeping pace with the rest of his men on foot. When he arrived much to his delight he had at last located the remnant of the forces that were stationed at Hanscom along with a handful of other National Guard units from around the Boston metro that had also found their way here. Weaver got out of the Humvee with Jimmy and waited for his men to catch up. Once they had caught up he walked into the refugee center they had set up in a wooded residential area off a minor state highway to both the south and east of the prison. There were several military trucks and Humvees that had presumably come from Hanscom in the parking lot of a quaint Best Western hotel just east of the prison. In front of the hotel was the official welcome wagon where civilian volunteers were processing in the new arrivals and getting them set up in the facilities they had commandeered. Next to the hotel was a modest restaurant where a hot meal was being prepared for the population using scavenged ingredients cooked over gas and charcoal grills. All the meat would have gone bad anyways so it wasn't exactly stolen from the local shops and grocery stores. It was being put to good use now which was all that mattered at the moment and there was a reasonable assumption that the government would reimburse the affected businesses when this whole ordeal was over. The reality of exactly if and when it would be over had not yet registered to the people here; many were still lost in the delusion that this was just a passing crisis. It would be a while before the gravity of what was happening would sink in. Beyond the hotel, restaurant and assorted homes, condos and businesses was the same prison that a few hours ago Pope and his gang had broken out of which had now become the command center for the military and emergency services personnel overseeing the refugee camp at the present time. There was a barricade of barbed wire, fence posts and sandbags set up on the highway just before Weaver got to the hotel with seven soldiers and one M2 Browning machine gun to hold the western access point. The portable crossbar they had hastily constructed was raised when the soldiers spotted Weaver's team approaching. The enlisted personnel saluted Weaver and permitted him to pass.

"Where can I find who's in charge here?" Weaver asked.

"Colonel Porter and General Marionetti are over at the prison sir." replied the Sergeant who commanded the guard post.

"Thank you Sergeant. At ease." Weaver replied.

Weaver then turned back to one of his soldiers who had been riding with him in the Humvee.

"Corporal could you take the Humvee down to the cemetery and see to laying this boy's folks to rest. I saw a hardware store down the street coming in, you can borrow a few shovels from there. Grab yourself a couple men to help out." Weaver instructed the soldier.

When the soldier left Weaver turned back towards Jimmy. "We'll have a funeral for your parents this afternoon. I know it won't make up for your loss son but a little respect is the best I can do." Weaver apologetically told Jimmy.

Jimmy silently accepted the apology but said nothing throughout the rest of the day. Weaver sent another soldier to take Jimmy to wherever they were housing the civilians. As he was an orphan he garnered sympathy among the staff and was allowed the more comfortable living arrangements in one of the condos to the south along the other orphans and widows. He was offered grief counseling by a social worker but declined stating that he was fine and just wanted to rest. Weaver dismissed his soldiers to get set up in their own living arrangements and find their anticipated duty assignments while he and Sergeant Healey went on ahead.

As he passed down the street Weaver took measure of the conditions inside the refugee camp. It was calm and peaceful despite the looming danger back towards Boston. People were friendly and in spite of the fear and tension they surely felt. Weaver noticed there were a large number of civilian noncombatants spread out around the place and there didn't seem to be adequate manpower to protect them in the event of a ground assault. Even with armed citizens volunteering to augment the military and National Guard forces the civilian refugees in Concord outnumbered the fighting men forty three to one and that ratio was bound to get worse as more and more people trickled in throughout the day. After meeting with a few soldiers walking about Weaver ascertained that the soldiers from Hanscom had been joined by a number of other units that had fled from the Boston metro and neighboring communities. They all had the same idea as Weaver and either discovered the ruins of Hanscom or located this refugee center prior to reaching the base.

When Weaver got to the prison he discovered that it had been heavily fortified. There was an M45 anti-aircraft gun set up in an empty lot on the other side of the road from the prison. Around the prison walls there were also a couple M2 Brownings set up along with a handful of soldiers with Stinger missiles in the guard towers. Other soldiers with M4s and M16s guarded the entrances and the perimeter of the prison. When they got to the prison Weaver sent Sergeant Healey to assist a group of other soldiers moving mortars and building materials to the north edge of camp. After walking up to the front gate Weaver was escorted by one of the guards to meet with Colonel Porter who was in the warden's office. Weaver popped to attention and saluted. When Porter returned the salute and Weaver's escort did an about face and left Porter got up and walked towards Weaver. He extended his hand.

"Why if it isn't Dan Weaver. I haven't seen you in how long?" Porter greeted him

"No need to be so stiff among friends." Porter said as he welcomed Weaver with a handshake.

"Nice to see you too Jim. It's been a while, since back when people were shooting at us." Weaver replied.

"Indeed, just when I thought I had put those days behind us this happens. So much for retirement huh?" Porter cordially remarked.

"I would've figured the next time I saw you would've been on the golf course provided I learned how to take up the game." Weaver chuckled back.

"So you're the man in charge here?" Weaver asked.

"The General is out inspecting the defenses they're building on the south side so for the moment yes, I am in charge." Porter said.

"So you're housing our boys inside a prison?" Weaver asked.

"There's nowhere more fortified in the city. We're supposed to be the types who can rough it; save the fluffy beds for the civvies. Besides we've got the situation under control now. The inmates have all been relocated to one cell block and we've got it sealed up tighter than a crab's bunghole." Porter replied.

"Oh and for your information there was a breakout at the prison before we got here; we rounded up some of the escapees and locked them back up but some of the fugitives are still at large so tell your men to watch themselves." Porter advised Weaver.

"I'll let them know." Weaver replied.

Just then a group of soldiers stood in the doorway behind them.

"Colonel Porter sir, you wanted to see us?" asked Lt. Terry Clayton.

"Ah yes. If you would make yourself at home Dan, get a bite to eat and see to your men. I'll get with you later concerning duty assignments." Porter turned to Weaver and said.

Weaver dismissed himself and the other men entered into the office.

"Lt. Clayton we need you to head out west towards the Reserve post at Devens to see if you can pick up any survivors that may still be in the vicinity. Sergeant Gibson, you and Private O'Brian head back into town and bring whoever you can find back here." Porter instructed the two specific groups of his soldiers that approached him.

Outside in the prison yard the returning General Marionetti had the soldiers from Hanscom were assembled in 5 man squads as Weaver passed by. The new arrivals were permitted time to acclimate themselves and recuperate while the soldiers who had been here a while were about to be sent back into the fray.

"Listen up everyone. We need people to go back into the city and start evacuating survivors from the affected areas outside of the landing zone. Those within the LZ are deemed a loss, don't get yourself killed over them there should be plenty that we actually stand a chance to save so please use good judgement out there." General Marionetti addressed the soldiers.

Weaver stopped and listened in to the General as he finished giving out instructions to the soldiers and dismissed them to head into the city on a large scale search and rescue mission. As he was leaving Marionetti stopped by Weaver and acknowledged him.

"Captain Weaver, I'm going to need to commandeer your Humvee. As you've heard we're going back into the city to try and bring as many civilians out of there before the enemy lands. We'll bring her back in one piece." Marionetti told Weaver.

"Understandable sir. It's back on the other side of town now where my men are tending to civilian casualties but as soon as I see them again I'll have them bring it to you." Weaver replied.

"If I may I would also like to volunteer to go back into the city to assist with the evacuation. I have some things I need to check on myself if you don't mind sir." Weaver requested after a minute long pause.

"Why aren't you a go-getter Captain? I appreciate your tenacity. Permission granted." Marionetti replied.

"Thank you sir. I won't let you down." Weaver replied.

"One more thing." Marionetti said to Weaver after he turned and walked away.

Weaver stopped and turned back around. "Good luck Captain." Marionetti told him.

Weaver nodded and made his way towards the exit. He would meet with the burial detail and take the Humvee from there. While heading into the city to seek out survivors he would have the chance to check on his own family. This was a way for him to quell his personal concern over his daughters while not turning his back on his military duties. He didn't know what he would find once he got back into town. The uncertainty of venturing into the unknown was what worried him the most. Thoughts raced through his mind. What was the situation like in Allston? What would the aliens look like and what terrifying weapons would they employ? Would he see his little girls again? Now for the first time since the attack began Weaver felt truly afraid.


	13. Chapter 13: Changing Course

Chapter XIII: Changing Course

4 Oct 1344 EDT

Framingham, MA, United States

After a several hour long hike through the Boston metro area the Masons and the survivors from the hospital where Rebecca was volunteering had at last reached Framingham. Tom had driven through here before, well not this exact route since they were meandering through city streets and across open fields and the like but he had gone from his home through Framingham on his way to conferences in New York, Connecticut and New Jersey when driving was more economical and less of a hassle than flying. If he left early enough to avoid traffic he could have passed through this area in around twenty minutes or so. On foot it had taken them several hours. It seemed so much further away now. Being the consummate historian he was of course Tom reflected on how this area was in the past when what was now one giant metropolis was a spattering of small towns and villages separated by quite significant stretches of unblemished fields and forests with the modest town of Boston at its center. Of course Boston itself was much smaller in those days; the famous sites of Breed's and Bunker Hill which had been actual ridges outside the city limits in the time in which the battle bearing their name was fought had long since been swallowed up by the urban jungle. All of the strip malls and shopping centers they had passed through recently were all woodlands. Along the way Tom had tried to expound upon these musings to his children but they were having none of it. A long march out of town following an alien invasion was no time for a history lesson. Hal preferred to make googly eyes at Karen and have a lively discussion with Karen and several of the men in the party concerning how the recent Major League Baseball season and speculate how the current NFL season would have gone down had the aliens not attacked. Ben and Matt hung back with a group of boys around Matt's age and debated the merits of DC versus Marvel Comics. Ben took the side of DC namely because Batman and Matt was the Marvel fanboy of the two. Each of the other boys took sides and the silly little debate kept their minds off the real crisis at hand. Each of them had their coping mechanism Tom thought, and fortunately none of his boys had to suffer true loss in this disaster. Yes they had walked away from their home and the fate of some of their friends was unknown but several people in the group had already lost much more. One little girl had lost her mother, an older woman lost her husband, a man lost his son and his right eye and many more had suffered grievous wounds in the first and second waves of the attack. Tom hoped they could get to safety before his boys had their youthful innocence taken from them, especially Matt; the one that Tom was sure still remained a child. Ben too, given his introverted nature seemed more childlike than his age would attest to. Hal on the other hand was practically a man, he had his childhood untarnished and intact, full of memories of triumph and heartbreak but all of which were the foundation of a fine young man. He only wished the same for his two younger sons.

While en route Tom's group had picked up more survivors from Boston. Each group was fleeing aimlessly out of the city and when they saw that Tom's had a clear direction and purpose they threw in with it. In time their ranks swelled to around two thousand people all hoping to be led to the Promised Land. However when they got there they discovered the Promised Land was a lie.

When Tom and company arrived the hospital was operating under a skeleton crew. Only the invalids who could not walk, roll or be carried away had remained along with four volunteers who were taking care of them. Those on life support and others who had perished as a result of the loss of power had been taken around back and wrapped up in body bags to be buried at a later date. For many of the dead they passed in their sleep, unaware of the breaking of the world. Some could say they were the lucky ones. Those who lived were faced with the uncertainty of the hours to come in which the true terror that the stars had sent down was expected to be revealed to the world. Tom surmised these few poor souls that remained were probably the only people left in Framingham.

"Where did everyone go?" Tom asked one of the orderlies.

"They took to the hills, went back home to their families, some went searching for the army thinking that they could protect them. We're just here because these people have no place to go." the college aged man in blue-green scrubs replied.

"Well we've got more medical personnel on the way along with other patients. We were told to take these people over here because it would be safer than Boston with all the bombs falling over there." Tom explained.

"We haven't had any bombs fall over here yet but I can't guarantee anyone's safety. We've got no weapons, no power, no vehicles, nothing. Sorry to disappoint you but please feel free to make yourselves at home." the orderly said.

The group behind Tom started to disperse and get settled in, first helping those with injuries get the help they needed and then tending to themselves. A large portion of the group still remained on the lawn, in the parking lot and on the adjacent street as there was not enough room for everyone in the hospital.

"Whatever medical supplies you can find you can help yourself to. It doesn't seem like any of you are that bad off judging by the fact you're all walking. We've got some meds downstairs in the pharmacy and there's bound to be food in the stores around town if you have no qualms about looting." the orderly informed the group.

"No thanks on the looting. We'd like to keep it civilized as long as we can. I'm still hoping there's some continuity of government out there that'll show up and get things under control." Tom replied.

"Why aren't you the eternal optimist." the orderly laughed.

"We've got a little bit of food in the cafeteria if you don't want to break any laws. I don't know how long it would last with all these people." the orderly added.

"Thank you. It'll do. Wouldn't hurt to shed a few pounds anyways." Tom replied.

"Ha, you're looking fine mister. We could always use someone like you to lift people's spirits given how glum things have gotten." the orderly said.

"Glad to hear that. I'm not going to be staying long though. My and my family have other business to attend to. I was just doing a favor for a friend by bringing these people here." Tom replied.

"You take care of what you need to take care of. We'll all try our best to make do around here. Good luck sir." the orderly said.

With that Tom gathered up his family and they headed through the crowd towards the north. Without much of a stir the Masons moved through the dissipating crowd. Each group of people was heading off to their own spaces in their temporary home and paid little attention to what their former shepherd was doing. They didn't know how much solace they would have in this place or when they would have to leave again. Right now it didn't matter they were just glad that they could stop running. Tom knew this was but a lull in the action. It didn't matter how far from the city center people went if they aliens meant to exterminate them they would never be safe. From their actions so far it appeared to Tom as if extermination or at least reduction of the human population to manageable levels was among the goals of the invaders. Even if it wasn't Tom was not about to wait around and find out. He had a general idea of where to find Vlensa's bunker. By the most direct route given the time it took to reach Framingham from the outskirts of Cambridge Tom calculated that it would take between 4 to 6 days to make it deep into the White Mountains of New Hampshire giving adequate time for rest and meal breaks along the way. It was going to be a long march, close to twice as long as the path Washington led the Continental Army on their retreat from New York across the Delaware. That would be more physical activity than any of them were used to, even his wife who regularly participated in marathons for charity events and the like or Hal with all of his sports training. The alarm was raised in Tom's mind concerning Ben. They wouldn't be able to keep a sustained grueling march the whole way because of him. They would frequently have to stop and take it easy lest his asthma and other ailments get the better of him. This also prompted Tom to double back to the hospital and pick up extra cartridges of Ben's medicine for his inhaler.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." Tom told his family.

Tom went into the hospital and took half of their stock of Ben's medication with him. As he was leaving to return to his family he was approached by Paul Dixon.

"You heading out already Tom?" Dixon asked.

"Might as well before things get too hectic around here." Tom replied.

"So much for this place being our rock of refuge." Paul commented.

"Are you still fine with me tagging along?" Paul asked.

"Yes, you're welcome to come along. You might not want to talk about our plan out loud right now or we'll have all these people following us." Tom told Paul in a soft voice.

"Right, right I'm sorry. We'll let's get going then. I haven't had a chance to unpack yet so I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

Tom and Paul went back to Tom's family and made ready to go when Tom noticed Ben wasn't in their company anymore. While Tom was gone Ben had noticed Graciela and her family and went over to say goodbye to them. When Ben approached Graciela's mother was tending to little Elsa and Graciela was setting up a bed roll for herself on the ground.

"Hi." Ben meekly said.

"Hi. Ben Mason isn't it?" Graciela asked, remembering him from earlier.

"Yeah that's me. I just umm, wanted to drop by and see how you were doing." Ben said.

"We're doing fine. Elsa's finally calmed down now that we've stopped walking. We had to carry her half the way when her little legs got tired." Graciela said as she finished padding down her bed. She then knelt down and began taking out items from her backpack and going through them.

"Awww, poor thing." Ben said.

"Yeah, she's going to lie down for a while and once I'm done here I think I'll mosey on down to cafeteria and see if there's any of that delicious hospital food left." Graciela said fading into sarcasm with that last part about the food.

It wasn't easy saying goodbye to the only girl who ever gave him the time of day, in person at least, even if it was just for a moment or two. Ben stood there in silence for a minute or two trying to figure out what to tell her. He didn't want to tell her anything but it would be so rude to just up and disappear without saying a word. He couldn't do that, even if she would only end up forgetting him after a day or two.

"Well, umm, I've got to be going now. My Dad has business to attend to back in town and he doesn't want to leave us behind so, I'll see you when I see you?" Ben told her, fumbling for words and sounding uncomfortable as can be.

Before she could reply Ben quickly turned around and walked away so she couldn't see how red his flushed face had become.

"Hey!" Graciela called out to Ben.

Ben stopped, regained his composure and looked back at her.

"Take care of yourself Ben Mason." Graciela told him.

Ben smiled nervously and went off to join his family. He hoped to see her again but knew that most likely would never happen. They would both find themselves in precarious situations soon; which would be worse he did not know nor did it matter. Ben rejoined his family shortly after Tom started looking for him and together they all set off on their long journey to yet another promised land beyond the horizon with the hope this one held more promise than the last.


	14. Chapter 14: To Make a Widow

Chapter XIV: To Make a Widow

4 Oct 1256 EDT

Boston MA

Anne returned to her house winded from jogging all the way. There was no way that Lee could have been held up any longer than Uncle Scott. Scott was an old man and always drove like 20 miles under the speed limit in that RV. Lee could've walked to the hospital faster than that. It was funny but in some respects it was the truth. All the more reason to give Anne concern that he hadn't shown up. When she finally reached her neighborhood she slowed down and allowed herself to catch her breath. Her concern intensified when she saw the wisps of smoke spiraling upwards from behind the first row of houses. This concern intensified into fear and then to horror when she went down the block and saw a cluster of homes near hers toppled over and spotted with the dying remnants of flames devouring their structure. An errant alien bomb had fallen here apparently targeting a now slain four man team of soldiers around a Stryker she saw demolished a short distance down the road. She then saw her own house and her horror faded into despair.

Anne fell to her knees in front of the smoldering husk that had once been her home. The roof had collapsed inward and the upstairs floors were nothing but the vertical members of the frame. The bottom floor was a blackened, charred mess of material which puffed out smoke from fires still crackling beneath the debris out of Anne's view. The charger was still there, parked at a crooked angle in her driveway and seemingly untouched. Her eyes watered down with tears multiplied from sadness and from the smoke. Even through her tear stained vision she saw it sticking out the front window. It was Lee's arm; it had to be reaching out of a half opened window. It was scorched like an overcooked hot dog on the grill and peeled away in places where the thick black outer layer of incinerated flesh had fallen away. It appeared that Lee was trying to escape through the window before he died as debris from the collapse of the roof and the floor above had blocked the obvious retreat through the front door. Anne couldn't bear to look at it any longer than a second. She buried her face in her hands and wept profusely, bowing her head towards the ground. The dust and grime from the air that had settled onto her hands and face were smeared into an oily mask over her skin. She couldn't fully process it, she didn't want to. It couldn't end like this. There had been so much death today, she had seen more than her share already and the toll that it had taken on her was grievous by itself. She wasn't the kind of doctor that dealt with death on a regular basis. She dealt with children, and not the really sick kind in specialized hospitals but rather your average boys and girls with scraped knees and stuffy noses. She was in her zone giving shots and checking tonsils rather than doing autopsies. Death itself was a difficult visitor for Anne to handle but even more so when it had called so close to home. Anne bawled loudly as if he tears had any chance to bring her husband back. Whatever Lee had gone back to the house to get, it wasn't worth it. Whatever it was it wasn't worth making her a widow.

Anne would have been there sobbing on the street all day if an Army Humvee hadn't drove up behind her and stopped. She was so lost in her grief that she did not notice the two soldiers that got out of the vehicle and approached her from behind.

"Ma'am. Ma'am!" one of the men said to her trying to get her attention.

When Anne didn't respond the other man grabbed her arm and tried to get her to stand up. Anne twisted to the side and shoved the man away from her and remained on her knees wailing in despair.

"Ma'am. Ma'am! Please, you have to get out of here!" the first soldier implored her.

"Why? Just leave me here! Go away!" Anne shouted back, her voice cracking with the tears.

"Ma'am I know you lost your family. A lot of people did but you can't just give up on life. You have to keep living, for them if anything. Keep their memory alive." the first soldier tried to console her and convince her to get up.

Anne resolved to get up and reconstitute herself; not because of what the man said but because he had reminded her that she didn't lose her family. She had only lost her husband, Sam was still alive and she still had a duty as a mother to get back to him and protect him from the coming storm. Anne stood up and looked at the soldiers, still sniffling as she dried her eyes with soot covered hands sullied by ash that floated down off the breeze like snowflakes.

"Ma'am the Army has called for an immediate evacuation of everyone east of the I-95 corridor." the second soldier told her.

"We've been sent to get you out of here. We believe a ground invasion is imminent. By order of the Provisional Commander of the Massachusetts National Guard all civilians in the vicinity of Boston are to be evacuated to the refugee relocation facilities in Concord." the first soldier added.

Anne had now stopped the tears and looked straight at the soldiers with a resolute look in her red bloodshot eyes. Her face was swollen beneath the smeared coal black ash that had soaked into her skin.

"I have a son who is going to Framingham. Could you take me to him?" Anne asked.

"Or send someone to bring him to me in Concord?" she asked again.

"Once we get you and the other civilians out of Boston we will send someone to Framingham for your son ma'am. For now he should be safe there. We believe Boston will be their first objective so we have to focus our efforts here." the first soldier said.

Anne nodded and continued to restrain the tears that so badly desired to leak out from behind her eyes. She followed the soldiers and got into the back of the Humvee before they headed off in search of any stragglers that remained in this part of the city.

About fifteen minutes after Anne and the soldiers had departed a band of ten skitters crawled into the neighborhood. They scampered through the smoked out wreckage, right past Anne's house and went onto the structurally sound houses of the neighborhood. The aliens looked over the houses, even peered into a few of them then kept on going, off on their way to do whatever "alien" things they intended to do in Boston.


	15. Chapter 15: The Third Kind

Chapter XV: The Third Kind

4 Oct 1429 EDT

Allston, MA

Weaver went into the city on leave to locate his children and ex-wife. Along the way they located groups of people ranging in size from small bands to humongous herds of humanity. They informed each group that a refugee station was being set up in Concord. There they would have security but Weaver also cautioned the groups to bring their own supplies as well for he did not know how well stocked the town was and doubted it could absorb the influx of so many people from Boston. As they went deeper into the city they found fewer and fewer people until the streets were empty. Nothing remained out in the open except inoperable abandoned cars and empty buildings. Now it wouldn't be easy for Weaver to reach his ex-wife's home. She lived close to the area that had been cordoned off by the alien bombing. All the bridges were out, roads and underpasses were destroyed. There was no direct route for Weaver to make it to his children's home. He had to park the Humvee on Arsenal Street on the north bank of the Charles River and swim across in order to get there. He left his men with orders to wait for him up to two hours and if he wasn't back by then or if they encountered any alien ground forces then their orders were to return to Concord immediately.

When Weaver arrived at his ex-wife's residence the house was deserted. There was no sign of his wife or children. This offered no comfort nor added to his fears. There was also no sign of a struggle, the house seemed intact, their car was left parked on the curb, nothing at all was amiss. This was a positive sign as it seemed to point to the fact that Linda and the girls had left though from the tidy condition the house was in did not appear to be in a hurry when they did. He checked the cabinets and cupboards and noticed that Linda had forgotten to take her medication with her. This wasn't good considering her blood pressure would be elevated with all the happenings in the world to begin with and with her condition it would be even worse. What a time to be forgetful now Weaver lamented. Hopefully Jeannie would notice this and get her mother to pick up some at a pharmacy along their way to wherever they had headed off to. He also assumed that more than likely they were still in Greater Boston so the Army's search and rescue teams may still find them and bring them back to Concord where he would be. With that self-assurance Weaver left his ex-wife's house and closed the door behind him.

On his way back towards his men Weaver caught his first glimpse of what "they" looked like. The sound of clacking feet moving inhumanly over the rooftops startled him and quickly urged him to seek cover inside a nearby Dunkin Donuts. Peeking out from behind the sales counter Weaver saw the brown, eight limbed creatures passing by on the street. Their overall body plan was insectoid, much like a praying mantis with six stout legs and two elongated arms ending in long sharp clawed fingers. The creature's skin was more reptilian than insectoid being covered with thick hard yet flexible scales rather than a solid exoskeleton. They had simple eyes like humans rather than compound eyes like an insect would have. Their mouths had no teeth that could be seen and rather two peculiar looking feelers drooping down on each side of the upper lip resembling a "tentacle moustache." Two hardened ovoid bulges were on the right and left sides of the head at the base of a hardened cranial plate. They appeared to carry no weapons of any kind but wore a suit of body armor consisting of a metal cuirass with neck and shoulder guards. In size the creatures were larger than a human being but with the way they walked crouching down as they scampered along they often stood lower to the ground that a human would. They moved quickly for such a cumbersome looking creature with an agility reminiscent of the lightning fast reflexes of a spider. Seeing them skitter down the path and away from him is how Weaver coined his nickname for the aliens, "Skitters." After he was sure the skitters had passed Weaver emerged from the Dunkin Donuts and made his way back to his men waiting on the other side of the river.

On his way out he spotted another soldier wandering around with a group of six civilians. He was an Army Lieutenant and the name on his uniform read Danner. He looked lost so Weaver approached the man.

"You taking these folks back to Concord?" Weaver asked.

"No, I didn't know I was supposed to be." replied the soldier.

"Ah, then you're not with us then." Weaver remarked.

"No sir. I haven't seen any other soldiers since it happened." the soldier replied.

"What unit are you with Lieutenant?" Weaver asked.

"10th Mountain, but I was on leave visiting relatives here when the attack hit. My unit was still in Kabul." Lt. Danner replied.

"Afghanistan eh? You've seen some fighting then I'm guessing?" Weaver inquired.

"A little. The Taliban was gone long before I got there as were the worst of the insurgents where I was. Got into a few tight spots but other guys had it a lot rougher." Danner confessed.

"Don't sell yourself short soldier. We could use your skills on the front lines." Weaver said.

"You're fighting back against these things?" Danner asked in astonishment presuming that too little military capability remained to mount an effect counterattack to the aliens.

"What other choice do we have?" Weaver replied.

"Besides you wouldn't want to stay around here. I just saw ten of the creatures heading southwest less than a mile from here." Weaver added.

"You've seen them?" Danner asked in disbelief.

He supposed eventually they would have gotten off their ships and gone out into the world they conquered but this soon? It seemed like it was happening way too fast.

"Yeah just saw a squad of about eight to twelve of them over by the Dunkin Donuts back there." Weaver replied.

"What do they look like?" asked one of the civilians who was listening in.

"A big crusty brown or tan spider spliced with a centaur." Weaver tried to succinctly explain it to the man.

"That's not pleasant to think about." the man commented.

"No it isn't. They're some ugly sons of bitches I'll tell you that much." Weaver remarked.

Weaver looked around to make sure there weren't any more of the aliens about. "You can all come with me back to Concord. You'll be safer behind our lines than you are out here with those things." he told Danner and the civilians.

Danner nodded and turned to the civilians who without saying a word followed behind him and Weaver. As they neared the narrow point in the river where Weaver had swam across the sound of M16 fire could be heard from the other side. Weaver saw six of the creatures, two lie dead on the riverbank closest to him and four of which were swimming across the river towards his men. His men continued firing on the creatures. The bullets pinged harmlessly off the armor and even when they struck the exoskeleton they didn't seem to do much damage. Only the hits to the face below the hardened cranial plates and the joints appeared to really slow the creatures down and with the aliens partially submerged in water scoring those direct hits was difficult to say the least. Still his men managed to stop one of the creatures from making it across and injure another alien by taking out the legs on its left side when it emerged onto land. Weaver took up his rifle and fired upon the back of the remaining skitter as it started to charge towards his men who were falling back while alternating bursts of gunfire towards the creature as they reloaded. Weaver's shots ran up the spine of the creature doing no damage until they hit a narrow gap between the rear neck guard and the back side of the cranial plate. The bullet entered in through this weak point and with a single shot felled the alien monster. The rest of Weaver's troops finished off the wounded skitter by advancing on it and shooting it dead at close range.

Once the danger had passed Weaver waved to his men to signal them to wait up for him and then waved on Danner and the civilians to follow him across the river. They joined back up on the northern bank of the river and packed as many people as they could into the Humvee. The rest including Weaver walked behind the Humvee as they headed back towards Concord and what they perceived to be relative safety from the looming ground war.


	16. Chapter 16: Brace For Impact

Chapter XVI: Brace for Impact

4 Oct 1430 EDT

Avon, MA

Anthony and his companions along with the state troopers and other government personnel led the evacuation of South Boston out of the city and into the suburbs south of Interstate 93. Once out of the denser urban environment they traveled through the wooded area alongside Highway 24 when they could in order to hide from the alien ships in the air, blindly assuming that the craft were limited to visual recognition. The aliens paid them little attention; they had spent the past few hours hovering over their supposed landing site in central Boston and had only sent out minimal air patrols away from that location. One of these patrols shot down an old single engine Cessna that was still in the air since the attack and had wandered in too close. Other than that Anthony and his group did not notice any further acts of alien aggression from the air.

As they went further south Anthony spotted an abandoned M113 lying on its side next to a bunch of disabled vehicles. Two Humvees and several civilian cars next to it were utterly destroyed as the result of an alien attack. The M113 was partially overturned but was otherwise intact. Around the vehicles there were the bodies of six soldiers and four civilians left in their final poses. Two of the soldiers close to the Humvees were burned to a crisp, two others and a civilian had been blown apart and their constituent parts spread over the area while the rest of the slain were still mostly recognizable as human. Amidst this human tragedy Anthony spotted something else, the soldiers' weapons. They hadn't exactly left the police station properly armed. Anthony had his service pistol but Click had left his locked up back at the station as did Jeff and Dai didn't even have a gun. It was kind of rude to ignore the corpses and take their weapons but what really could Anthony and company do for these men. It was best they were left where they could be found and identified later. As for their weapons, they could be put to use now.

"Hey guys, gather up all those guns over there." Anthony told his associates.

The policemen and Dai broke away from the herd and went over to the slain soldiers. Jeff crouched down and took an M4 carbine off one soldier and handed it to Dai then took a pistol and a knife for himself. Click bent over and found an M16 rifle and a grenade. Anthony pulled a M72 rocket launcher off a dead soldier. It had already been fired and was in essence now a hollow tube. Still Anthony took it thinking it could be put to use later.

"Click go check inside the APC." Anthony instructed his partner.

Click climbed in the overturned vehicle and later emerged with a few flashbangs and smoke grenades.

"There's a pair of shotguns in there. They've only got rubber bullets though." Click told him.

"Take them. We could find some shells later." Anthony told him.

Click distributed the grenades to the other law enforcement officers and went back to get the shotguns. Meanwhile Anthony harvested a belt of M240 ammo that had been used on one of the Humvees. The M240 itself was no more but again Anthony decided to hang onto the bullets in case they found another gun that could use them later. So he fashioned himself a bandolier out of the belt of M240 rounds and slung it across his chest.

"Well now we're loaded for bear aren't we Rambo?" Click jokingly said to Anthony after handing off the shotguns.

"Let's just hope its good enough to fend off whatever they throw at us if we run into them." Anthony said.

Once they finished picking the area clean Anthony and his group rejoined the exodus that had been continuing on southward the whole time. Anthony looked back to the north and saw the smoke from the distant fires still rising since the morning. With only a few seconds to contemplate despair he gathered his resolve and looked ahead to where he was going. Where exactly it was they were going he did not know. Away, that's where they were going; away from all of this, away from Boston, away from their home. Anthony couldn't dwell on the details. Boston was behind him now. It was lost and there was nothing he could do about it; he could only keep moving forward. As the evacuation entered Brockton and picked up some more refugees along with frightened locals there a lone cigar shaped object appeared on the eastern horizon and was drawing near.


	17. Chapter 17: Like Any Other Day

Chapter XVII: Like Any Other Day

4 Oct 1600 CAT

Wilderness Area, Mozambique

In a campsite in the bush near the northeastern border of South Africa Dingaan Botha, a power linesman from Johannesburg and his dog, a mostly Dutch Shepherd mutt, sat outside their drab green tent roasting waterfowl over a fire. Dingaan smiled as his dog licked its chops in anticipation for the roast meat.

"Oh, you think this is for you? Ha, ha, I might let you have the bones when I'm done." Dingaan remarked before tousling the dog's fur.

Dingaan had gone into the bush to escape what he knew to be coming well in advance. The behavior of the enigmatic aliens seemed to unsettling for him to remain at his day job back in the city. Having lost his wife and son to a series of unfortunate events two years prior he was a single man with no attachments. This circumstance of his life made packing up and heading out into the wild all the easier; he only had himself to take care of.

From his vantage point in the southeastern African bush he had no idea that the Earth had just absorbed a massive orbital bombardment a mere two hours ago. The only real clue that had proven Dingaan's theories correct was a short blip on his shortwave radio as the civilized world came crashing down. His survival radio was hardened by design to withstand the effects of an EMP and powered by either a removable solar panel or a hand crank. It still functioned after the rest of the world went dark though since that time he had received nothing but silence. So it had begun, Dingaan reasoned. For him life went on, he might as well have considered himself the last man alive because it sure felt that way once the potential magnitude of what could have happened set in.

While Dingaan was alone today he hadn't always been. He had previously encountered a friendly tribe of Bushmen following a herd of game animals from Zimbabwe into South Africa. He knew enough of their language to get by, being rather fluent in several European and African tongues. He spent the night with them and they wished him well as he went on his travels. Like Dingaan the bush folk Dingaan hadn't even noticed when the attack had occurred. There weren't even aware of the existence of the aliens had Dingaan not told them. For them nothing had changed; they had no modern conveniences and they were far removed from any military targets worth bombing from orbit. Here in one of the most primitive, poorest parts of the world life had not skipped a beat. There was suffering as was there elsewhere in the world but the manner of their sufferings long predated the coming of the alien invaders.

Mozambique in general probably held little concern to the aliens, there wasn't much here by ways of a modern threat to neutralize. Even in the cities, destitute squalor was quite the norm. The country had rich resource reserves however as did his homeland so once the aliens had finished securing their prize from above Dingaan could reasonably deduce that they would land and lay claim to them, that is assuming they had the same priorities as human invaders and colonialists would have.

Once Dingaan's meat was cooked he ate. The simple life wasn't all that difficult he thought. Granted it lacked severely the comforts he was used to within the context of a modern civilized society but it wasn't something he couldn't adapt to. He was a clever man, aside from his day job he was a tinkerer in his garage, hoping to stumble across the next great invention by which he could profit from its benefit to mankind. That same intellectual curiosity could be used out here in the wild to sustain a life for himself. What he couldn't figure out on his own he could learn from the bush people. They had been living like this for generations and knew better than anyone how to survive. He hoped that in time he could return to one of the cities or towns and dwell in greater comfort than he did now but at the present time he was just thankful to have escaped the apocalypse alive and unharmed.

Dingaan took a pot of water and placed it over the fire as he ate. In time it would boil and kill off whatever foul parasites were swimming about in it. Forget your preconceptions about lions, leopards and roving bands of savages out in the African wilderness, the reality was that finding clean water was truly the greatest challenge to continued existence out here. As promised Dingaan tossed the leftover carcass of the bird to his dog who voraciously picked the bones clean. The zeal which the animal attacked its meal with made Dingaan chuckle.

"Slow down now, you don't want to give yourself a stomach ache." Dingaan said.

He sat and watched the dog eat while his pot of water slowly came to a boil. When the dog was done it laid down in the grass and looked lazily over at Dingaan seated upon a stump.

"So tell me, what do you think is happening back home?" Dingaan asked the mutt.

Two weeks out here and he was already talking to his dog as if the animal understood him and could answer him back Dingaan jokingly thought to himself. While now his sanity was fully intact he wondered that if in time would he completely lose his mind. With minimal if any human interaction out here would he start having long drawn out conversations with his dog, or a tree stump, or a rock? Dingaan wouldn't be isolated that long he thought. Eventually he would find others once they started fleeing from the cities he assumed. There had to be other survivors right? Dingaan thought that question was answered when he heard a rustling through the underbrush between the trees to the east of the clearing where he had made his camp. He turned in the direction of the noise and stood up, grasping his hunting rifle with his right hand only to see a woman staggering as if drunken or severely dehydrated emerge from the woods. Her dark mocha black skin was mottled and pale further giving credence to the notion she was severely dehydrated. Her hair was styled and cut close but in a precise way as if she had access to a professional stylist. She was well dressed as if she was a traveler who had fallen off along the road somewhere. She certainly did not have the look of a native tribesman. This was a civilized woman Dingaan thought, another like himself, and perhaps his first post-apocalyptic friend.

"Miss, are you alright?" Dingaan called out to her.

The woman looked back at him with a glazed over look in her eyes. She seemed to see right through him for a minute or two. Then her head snapped forward and she focused in on Dingaan baring her teeth in apparent anger.

"Easy now ma'am, I mean you no harm." Dingaan assured her.

The woman shrieked and pulled out a knife before charging at him. Instinctively in fear Dingaan raised the rifle and shot the woman in the throat. He had intended to render a near miss by the arm as a warning to get the lady to calm down but his own nerves impaired his aim thus rendering his warning shot a fatal wound. The woman fell to her knees and then collapsed forward onto her face several dozen yards away from him.

"Oh my, what a tragedy, oh my. Please Lord forgive me." Dingaan lamented looking down and placing his face in his right hand.

While Dingaan swelled with remorse the dead woman's body swelled up with gas. Dingaan looked up and figured he might as well bury the girl. Before he could approach the woman to provide her with a one man funeral, her body exploded into a fireball that consumed it completely. The concussive force radiating from the blast knocked Dingaan backwards through the air three feet and scared his dog away. Dingaan landed on his rump with a thud, his rifle landed in the grass a few feet away from him. As bits of burning flesh pitter pattered down into the grass Dingaan shook his head in disbelief. His dog came strolling up next to him and licked the side of Dingaan's face as if to make sure his master was ok.

"That was, unusual. I really did not see that coming. What has the world come to my friend?" he told the dog.

.

.

.

 _ **Author's Note:** In order to provide a more global perspective on the invasion and subsequent resistance effort each of my FS stories is going to have a secondary aspect to it which connects to one of the characters. For this one I'm having Dingaan from season 4 be the link (one of the few, possibly only thing from Seasons 4-5 that I'm actually going to use) ergo the parallel location for this one will be in South Africa, FS: Korea will mirror the Western US and expand into Russia and China later, FS:Japan will mirror the Southeastern US and possibly go into Australia later on, and there will be a UK/India story on the horizon as well. _


	18. Chapter 18: Here Comes the Cavalry

Chapter XVIII: Here Comes the Cavalry

4 Oct 1605 EDT

Concord, MA, United States

Civilian refugees from greater Boston continued to stream into the relocation facility at Concord while the military personnel made ready to repel the anticipated ground assault. A couple of alien flyovers had freaked them out but contrary to what had been the norm in the morning the craft did not attack. Fortunately for the ground forces and the civilians the alien craft were flying at too high an altitude to be at reasonable risk from the anti-air ground emplacements around the prison so the defenders did not shoot at them which would likely have provoked the aliens to shoot back.

The tense situation on the ground had started to defuse ever so slightly after several hours without an incident yet a thick cloud of fear and anxiety still hung around the military personnel and civilian refugees. They did not know what the alien's next move would be; they prayed that once they had the city they would leave them alone out here in the burbs and go about their business in Boston. The fact that the aliens had not dropped a bomb on this sizeable gathering of people with a noticeable amount of armament that could be detected from the air gave some people comfort that the threat was over or at least diminished for now. Most people believed that would not be the case allowing fear and pessimistic suspicion to command their judgement. Whether with overwhelming fear or foolish optimism everyone was on edge waiting for the hammer to fall.

A lookout on a rooftop near the western edge of the refugee camp spotted a train of vehicles moving down the road towards them. The soldier shouted and waved at another soldier to run and alert the command staff. Several curious people also noticed the incoming vehicles coming from the opposite direction and ran to the western gate where National Guardsmen were keeping them back and away from the roadway. The stir outside drew Jimmy away from a board game he was playing with a group of other children. He went outside to see what the commotion was about.

"It looks like the Army's brought backup. We could be taking the fight back to Boston." a man told Jimmy on his way to the west gate.

Jimmy followed the man to the road leading into the sectioned off parts of town that comprised the refugee camp a few minutes before the military reinforcements arrived. Eleven FEMA trucks accompanied by half a dozen Humvees, four large flatbed army trucks, four smaller army trucks, two M163 self-propelled Vulcans and a pair of Strykers rolled into the Concord refugee camp. Three of the large trucks towed WWII era Howitzer cannons behind them while all of the smaller trucks pulled towed Vulcan anti-aircraft batteries. All of the vehicles were packed with soldiers and supplies.

Colonel Porter and his entourage had also come to the gate. The vehicles pulled into a nearby parking lot and cleared the road. The leader of the reinforcements, an Army Brigadier General, got out of a Humvee along with the regional FEMA director. Surprised to see reinforcements arrive out of the blue so soon Porter approached the General and introduced himself.

"Colonel Jim Porter, Army Reserve special task force New England." Porter introduced himself after exchanging salutes with the General.

"Brigadier General Andrew Findlay, 42nd ID." the leader of the reinforcements replied reaching out to shake Porter's hand.

He then turned to introduce the FEMA director standing behind him to his left. "This is Deputy Director Allison Kruegel of the Federal Emergency Management Agency." General Findlay said.

Weaver nodded and shook her hand. Meanwhile soldiers began dismounting from the vehicles.

"We were on our way to Boston when we discovered this camp. I suggested we should check it out before going into town." Kruegel said.

"It's a good thing you did. Boston's burning right now, we're trying to get all her people out here." Porter told her.

"I'm glad to see someone survived that was willing to take the initiative. We had no such luck at Worcester. We've got four trucks and two squads of Humvees combing the city for survivors as we speak." General Findlay commented.

"How is Worcester doing? With all our men going into Boston to direct the survivors we haven't had a chance to scout too far west." Porter inquired.

"It didn't get a meteor dropped on it like the Reserve base at Devens did. " General Findlay answered.

"So much for Clayton's mission." mumbled Porter.

"Come again?" asked Findlay.

"We sent a group out towards Devens earlier. I suppose they aren't going to be finding anything there." Porter said to the General.

"I see. I would move to recall them as soon as possible. As for Worcester from what we gathered from the locals the aliens strafed a few of the National Guard units posted there and started landing ground forces." General Findlay answered.

"They're already landing are they? What are they like? What kind of weapons do they have at their disposition?" Porter asked.

"We didn't see any of them when we passed through. Frankly we were in too much of a hurry to get to Boston to bother sticking around to find out. So we just left a detachment to take care of the situation in Worcester and kept trucking along. The civilians that saw the landings only did so from a distance. To our knowledge no one that had seen the aliens up close survived to tell anyone." General Findlay replied.

"We've brought you food, medical supplies and guns. Where would you like us to unload them?" Director Kruegel asked.

"There's a commons area behind the prison where you can take the weapons and medical supplies. As for the food we've got kitchen facilities for the refugees set up around the Best Western." Porter directed Kruegel.

Porter, Findlay and their men got out of the way of the FEMA trucks and headed towards the prison on foot.

"Why it looks like you guys were chomping at the bit to get here. So far this whole invasion has been more about pulling our heads out of our own asses than anything else so I'm surprised to see that someone out there knew exactly what they were doing. We might have a chance to pull through this after all." Porter remarked jokingly as they walked along.

"Something close to this very scenario was anticipated by the Defense Intelligence Agency task force on Extraterrestrial Affairs. In response the military created a contingency plan in case our cities and bases were simultaneously attacked worldwide. We knew they had uploaded the entire internet along with every defense and intelligence agency's secure networks so we had to make sure we had some forces left in places no one could possibly know about. All US and allied armed forces discreetly moved portions of their forces into unlisted black sites spread throughout the world. These sites would be small enough to escape scrutiny but large enough to house a viable amount of war materiel. At least in our neck of the woods our contingency plan seems to have worked." General Findlay explained.

"Gentlemen, we are that contingency plan." Findlay asserted.

A few months ago the name "task force on Extraterrestrial Affairs" would have sounded ridiculous but now Porter didn't as much as bat an eye at it. The whole paradigm had changed ever since aliens came to Earth; it would be hard to shock him now.

Porter eyed the howitzer guns being moved off to augment the perimeter defenses. He hadn't seen one of those in active service since he was a young man. "Those aren't weapons, those are antiques." Porter chuckled.

"That they are, which is probably the reason the zoomies passed them over when they were picking off our equipment. We pulled these old Howitzers out of mothballs from the war museum. I'm sure glad those vets over at the historical society kept the upkeep up to spec all these years." Findlay remarked.

"We also have a few M2 Bradleys and a couple M60 Pattons. They're running behind since we couldn't move them until the alien air power settled down. With any luck they should arrive sometime tonight." Findlay added.

"If nothing else that'll help the civilians feel safe here. We're lucky that it's been peaceful in camp. I've heard rumors from Boston that things aren't quite as mellow over there. We've got to let people know we're still in control of the situation." Porter said.

"As soon as we get set up here we'll start helping you bring people out of Boston. I'd imagine with it being a larger city the aliens' timetables for a ground offensive have been pushed back a little so hopefully we'll have a little time left to rescue survivors." Findlay said.

"And hopefully all these guns won't be just for show should the aliens come here." Porter said.


	19. Chapter 19: First Blood

Chapter XIX: First Blood

4 Oct 1901 EDT

Waltham MA, United States

As light dimmed through the grey and black cloud cover still blanketing the Boston metro Tom and his group were thinking about settling down for the night in one of the dorms at Brandeis University.

"We should probably bed down for the night dear. There's no telling who or what will be roaming these streets once the sun goes down." Rebecca mentioned.

Tom sighed "These dorms look like as good a place as any." he said.

"I know these aren't your beds but they'll have to do for the night." Tom turned back to his kids and told them.

"That's fine dad. At least it's a bed, I was expecting to sleep on the grass out by that hospital today." Hal remarked.

"You might have to do that later on so enjoy the creature comforts of civilized life while you can." Tom told him.

"We'll get you all set up in a room and then me and Mr. Dixon will go out and fetch us some dinner. We need to save those canned goods from the house for when we really need them." Tom explained to his family.

While Tom was opposed to theft he didn't consider taking food items that would end up rotting in a day or two as stealing considering they were already deemed forfeit. Even with the most optimistic estimation of when the alien crisis would be over the vast majority of all fresh meats and produce would be completely rotted away.

"Do I have to share a room with Ben?" complained Hal.

"It's safer if we all stick together. It might be a little tight but we'll make do." Tom replied.

"Aw dad, come on! You know he snores so bad!" Hal protested though his real reason was that he wanted to have some alone time with Karen.

"If that was your reasoning why don't we all go with you to pick up the food?" Hal continued to plead.

"Your boy's got a point. We could carry more if we had all of them with us." Dixon told Tom.

"Yeah and dad, these college dorm rooms are awfully cramped, you should know. How are we going to all fit in just one?" Hal continued to object to the proposed lodging arrangement.

Rebecca looked at Tom with her loving, forgiving eyes as if to tell him not to press the issue. "We could probably split the boys between two rooms. We could take one room with Ben and Matt while Mr. Dixon stayed in the room across the hall with Hal and Karen. We'll still be right next to each other in case something happens and everyone will have a little extra leg room." Rebecca proposed.

She was wise to the fact of what Hal was trying to pull and no, she wasn't going to give them a pass for some hanky panky right under she and Tom's noses. Having addressed Hal's presumed complaints she could see no way for him to try and weasel a private room out of the deal now.

"Alright mom, I'll compromise with that." Hal agreed.

"Compromise? She gave you everything you wanted." Tom ridiculed Hal.

Hal laughed in embarrassment knowing that his scheme had been found out by his parents.

"Well then, let's go grab some groceries and pick us out our rooms before the sun goes down." Tom said.

They left the college campus and headed to a Market Basket grocery store off of I-95 nearby. The area was eerily quiet; there were no people all the cars on the highway and side streets were abandoned and left frozen in a frame of day to day life in a suburban town. They walked into the store, picked up a few of the reusable cloth grocery bags and started looking for what they wanted to have for dinner.

"Make sure to get some fruits and vegetables!" Rebecca told her children as they went off on their own to pick something out while Tom was looking through the bananas to find some ripe ones.

"Especially you Ben, you need your vitamin C!" Rebecca added.

Tom selected a ripe yellow bunch of bananas and then went after his kids who brought back their own selections. Hal had a couple packs of lunchmeats and cheese along with a loaf of bread to make sandwiches. Karen carried some condiments and a few boxes of that pre-cooked microwaveable bacon and a bag of pepperoni.

"Better eat it before it goes bad right?" Hal said.

Paul had took a bag of baby carrots, a can of corn and a few vacuum packed smoked salmon filets and stuffed them in a bag. Rebecca grabbed a few apples, a pear, a box of blueberries and a couple heads of lettuce and stuffed them in her own grocery bag. Lastly Ben and Matt came back and presented their dinner for Rebecca to see. Ben came back with a bag of tangerines and some sausages to his mother's approval. Matt's choice of gummi bears and rainbow nerds was less to her liking so Rebecca tossed in a head of lettuce, a plum and a couple sticks of beef jerky in Matt's bag to make up for it. Having gathered up enough for both dinner and possibly breakfast the group then proceeded towards the exit.

"I should check the pharmacy for any more of Ben's prescriptions." Tom mentioned.

"Wait here." Tom said handing his bag of bananas to his wife and walking off on his own towards the pharmacy.

When he got there he collided with a man running out from behind the in store pharmacy carrying an armload of pill bottles. The man dropped the pills and staggered back.

"Get back! I don't mean you no harm but if you try anything I swear I'll cut you!" the man threatened Tom as he drew a kitchen knife from his pocket and shook it in Tom's general direction.

"Easy now, I'm not going to rob you." Tom calmly said raising his hands to show he had no hostile intention.

"I'm sorry I thought you were one of the monsters. People been acting crazy running over each other and then these things just come out and start taking them away. I wasn't trying to hurt nobody here. I was just getting antibiotics for my boy. See he gets these bad lung infections and. . ." the man stammered.

"Say no more. My son has his share of breathing difficulties as well. Let me help you with those" Tom said slowing crouching down to assist the man in picking up the bottles of medication.

The man breathing heavily in a clear panic cautiously picked up the medication keeping an eye on Tom as Tom did the same. Tom handed the meds over to the man and backed away letting him catch his breath and come to his senses.

"How about I get you a bag for those?" Tom offered.

The man nodded and Tom left and quickly returned with a grocery bag. He held open the bag and allowed the man to drop the pill bottles into the bag. Tom then handed the bag back to the man.

"Thank you. I'm really sorry I freaked out there." The man apologized.

"I understand. We've been going through the same stuff as you today." Tom replied.

"You can come out now Rick." the man turned his head to the side and called out

A scared little boy just a little older than Matt with a scruffy uneven afro wearing a dark blue and white windbreaker over a grey shirt and sweatpants peeked out from behind the blood pressure machine and stood up.

"That's my boy Rick over there and I'm Mike, Mike Thompson." The man introduced himself to Tom.

"Tom Mason, glad to make your acquaintance" Tom said.

"Uh huh." The man replied.

"Listen, we're planning on staying the night around here. If you and your son don't have anywhere else to go you're welcome to come with me and my family. The more people we have around us the safer we'll all be right?" Tom offered.

"Well I thank you very much sir but we've only just met. I would stay with you for dinner but then we've got to be on our way. We've got to get as far from this city as possible before the monsters get here and I promise you they won't be waiting til sunrise to come for us." The man replied.

"Fair enough. Just let me get what I came for and then we'll all go make ourselves something to eat." Tom replied.

He went into the pharmacy retrieved the meds he needed for Ben and then took Mike and Rick back to his family.

"This is Mike Thompson and his son Rick. He's going to be eating dinner with us tonight." Tom said introducing the stranger to his family.

"How about we eat in that coffee shop down the street? That a way it will still be light when you have to go off on your way." Tom suggested to Mike.

In fact he was only suggesting this out of suspicion as he didn't know Mike any better than Mike knew him. These were wild times that made even good people go a little unhinged and since Mike seemed distrustful enough to not want to stay with Tom, Tom wasn't going to reveal to him where they would be staying in case he came back later in the night. Mike had clearly encountered some unsavory characters in Boston and if he had the slightest inclination that Tom was a threat to him or his son that could make Mike an inadvertent threat to Tom and his family. Tom after all knew what lengths a father would go to protect his son.

"That'll be fine. I could probably use a handful of java beans myself to keep me alert through the night. You see we're going to keep running, go way out in the woods where the monsters and all those thugs robbing people won't be able to find us." Mike consented.

They left the store and walked out into the parking lot as the shadows grew longer through the smoke screened sky and the light of the dismal distant sun was being drained away. There Tom and his new acquaintance were greeted by yet another new guest, only this one wasn't human. It had six legs and two arms, like an arachnid crossed with a praying mantis or a crab. It was covered in a chestnut brown scaly exoskeleton that was more reptilian than insectoid. Its upper torso rose up like a centaur from its spider-like body and had a head much in the shape of a wasp's head with a human-like face. Its eyes were simple like that of a human or most mammals, its mouth was wide and toothless with two drooping feelers like a tentacle moustache hanging down from either side. It had no discernible nose or ears but instead had two hardened smooth ovoid lumps on the side of its head. Its feet and hands ended in clamed digits, those on the feet being of a different arrangement having three equal sized claws while those on the hands had two long clawed digits and a shorter, less menacing thumb. The creature made no sound as it stood atop a car in the parking lot, its weight pressing down onto the roof of the vehicle causing it to cave in. The creature looked at them curiously as its presence frightened the humans who backed away from it. Mike drew his knife as if it would help him against those long reaching arms should the creature attack. With Hal and Rebecca looking ahead of them and Tom, Paul and Mike staring down the skitter the group carefully retreated away from the parking lot towards a street leading to the highway. When it looked as if they would get away the creature jumped off the car and ran towards them at an inhuman speed. It reached towards Ben as Paul pulled out a snubnose Taurus Judge revolver and shot the skitter twice in the chest sending it staggering back. The skitter brushed off the fractured scales from its chest and dislodged the bullets embedded therein. It then looked back at the humans who had attacked it. It's expression did not change though common sense would have told them that now the alien was pissed. Paul wasted no time waiting for the attack to come and shot the skitter as it stared them down in the throat. The bullet now penetrated the softer armor below the chin and caused the alien to reel backwards clutching it's throat as dark almost oily black and red blood drained out of the wound. Tom's family and their friends broke and ran for it, dropping much of the food they had gathered along the way. Hal and Karen sprinted ahead while Tom and Paul held up the rear to keep tabs on Rick and Ben who were the weakest runners in the group. Rebecca, Mike and Matt were in the middle of the group with a growing gap between them, the natural athletes up front and the stragglers in the rear.

"Is that thing even legal?" Tom asked Paul concerning his gun as they sprinted around a corner.

"Who cares! It saved your boy didn't it?" Paul snapped back.

They could see the highway ahead of them. It would be too open out on the road for them to escape but on the other side were all manner of businesses and a wooded area in which they might be able to evade detection before any more of the creatures or their machinations could arrive. Ben started coughing as they got to the highway prompting Tom to stop while the others crossed the road.

"Easy now Ben." Tom calmed him.

"Do you need your inhaler?" he softly asked his son.

"No, I just need to catch my breath." Ben gasped.

Karen and Hal disappeared onto a side street on the other side of the highway while Rebecca, Matt and Mike stopped at the tree line on the far side of the interstate and looked back, waiting for Tom and Ben to catch up. Paul also stopped midway on the highway next to a disabled Ford truck and a smart car while Rick ran past him towards his father. After running for a while and realizing they were on their own Hal and Karen turned back and stepped back out onto the highway about three quarters of a mile further north from the others.

"We're waiting for you Tom." Paul called back to assure Tom who could not see them from where he was on the slope of the drainage ditch beside the highway that they had not abandoned him.

About the time that Hal and Karen returned to the interstate a second skitter hidden by tree branches on top of a tire dealer behind Matt and Rebecca leaped out of its hiding place. The skitter landed with its legs around Matt and grabbed the back of Matt's head as it touched down. As if by accident when the skitter hits the ground it's hand jolts forward by the impact and slams Matt's face into the concrete with such force that it fractures his skull open. A bright red spray paints the grisly gray pavement upon the impact of Matt's face with the road. Almost sorrowfully the skitter carefully upturns Matt's head and looks at the broken face of the now unconscious boy as the warmth of life drained out from the split in his forehead. Matt's nostrils and mouth, now missing a few teeth also flowed with blood from what appeared to be an unintentional act by the alien creature. If this being could cry its peculiar countenance would indicate it was sobbing now. Matt's parents could care less that the alien felt bad; it had just murdered their son and the two were now out for blood. Mike acting as a surrogate for Rebecca's anger lunged at the skitter pointing the knife towards the side of its neck. The skitter swatted Mike away and sent him flying back several feet onto the pavement.

"Matt!" Rebecca screamed having only now processed what had happened.

Paul turned to the skitter and shot it. The skitter raised its arm over its face and absorbed the shot in a non-fatal wound to it's wrist. The creature got off of Matt and seized Rick, scooping him up in its unharmed arm and carrying him away. Paul fired multiple times at the fleeing creature, shattering a car window and making a couple hits into the skitters back causing it to wince in pain as it ran but it did not slow down. Paul's gun clicked indicating he had fired his last round and had not stopped the alien. Meanwhile Mike was trying to get up, arching his back in pain before sitting up, rolling over and rising to his feet only to see his son's legs and feet thrashing from beneath the armpit of an alien creature carrying him away like a football. Hearing the gunshot and his wife's screams Tom picked up Ben who had been shocked into a panic attack now and carried him out onto the highway to see what was going on.

"What happened?" Tom asked frantically as he carried Ben onto the interstate.

"That thing got Rick!" Mike shouted and ran off after the skitter.

The skitter passed close by Hal and Karen allowing Hal to dive after Rick, grabbing his legs and trying to pull him free of the creature's grasp. Hal only succeeded in partially pulling down Rick's pants which made Hal slip off removing one of Rick's shoes in the process. Hal tumbled onto the ground and watched as the alien got away, running at a pace even a track star could never hope to match. Meanwhile Tom set Ben down beside the smart car next to Paul and stood back aghast at the sight of his broken baby boy lying on the ground. Rebecca dropped to her knees and crawled over to Matt, bawling profusely and stroking the blood soaked hair of her son. Tom, still in shock hurried over to his wife to console and commiserate with her being himself devastated at this turn of events. Tears started to form in his eyes only to stream down his reddened cheeks.

"Matt, no, Matt. . .Why? Why!" Tom sobbed softly.

"Why couldn't I, oh no. . please, no, God, no! Not Matt, not my little boy, please!" Tom wailed and buried his face in Matt's side holding his son close to him as he felt his body grow cold.

Paul stood there allowing the parents to grieve the loss of their child in silence. Ben sitting down beside him also started to cry. Matt was the brother who understood him, his best friend when he had none. No matter what happened little Matt had been his perpetual companion but not anymore, all that had been taken from him. His baby brother was gone, all because of some stupid alien.

Hal and Karen came running back, leaving Mike exhausted on his knees cursing the northern sky for the loss of his own son. Although his kid was still alive to Mike it was no different than what happened to Matt. It might have been even better for Rick to have his face splattered on the pavement than to suffer whatever the aliens had in store for him. When Hal and Karen reached their parents Karen covered her mouth as she gasped in horror. Hal stood stoic on the outside but inside his heart was breaking. Paul helped Ben up and the two of them walked beside each other to Tom and Rebecca in solidarity.

After they had no more tears left to cry Tom and Rebecca lifted their heads up and looked at each other with their slain son between them.

"They killed my baby. Those bastards killed my little angel!" Rebecca snarled, her sorrow turning to rage.

"I'm going to get them back for what they did to my darling child. We have to kill every last one of them!" Rebecca growled.

Tom placed his hand on Rebecca's back to show his support without feeding into her rage or trying to talk her down from it. Now was not the time for reasoned thinking, now was the time to hurt. Tom picked up his son's body and carried it in front of him.

"We'll find a place, a proper place to bury him. Then we'll get the alien assholes who did this to him." Tom promised his wife.

Tom and his family gathered together and started walking north. They passed by Mike and stopped. Tom looked down towards him.

"Are you coming?" he asked.

"We'll get your son back." Paul told him.

"You can't promise that." Mike snapped back.

"I can. No one else is losing their child today." Tom told him.

Mike looked up at Tom holding his fallen baby boy. He couldn't lash out at him for he knew Tom had to have been suffering the same as he was. Mike sucked it up and presumed he should be grateful that at least he had a chance of getting Rick back. Tom had no such hope for Matt. This man who had just lost his youngest son was now pledging to help him find his own little boy. That certainly had to show the measure of Tom's heart. Mike knew now he could trust Tom. If there was a chance for him to get his son back, however slight Mike was going to take it. He took Paul's hand and was helped to his feet. The group then departed towards the north as one. The aliens had drawn first blood against the Masons today. In doing so they inadvertently awakened something within Tom. Though he didn't know it yet the course of his destiny had been irrevocably changed from within.


	20. Chapter 20: Midnight Ride

Chapter XX: Midnight Ride

4 Oct 2023 EDT

Massachusetts National Guard Forward Operating Post

Lexington, MA, United States

A twelve man team of soldiers manned a fortification made of several derelict cars circled around an open area with pallets reinforced with squares of sheet metal or plywood propped up around the outside of the vehicles. They held a position east of the juncture between highway 2A and interstate 95. With the highway 2 bridge taken out this would now be one of the main routes out of Boston. Their primary purpose was to guide those fleeing from the Boston Metro towards the refugee camp in Concord. They also were there to observe alien activity between Concord and Boston and provide early warning of an impending attack in that direction. In addition if necessary the soldiers were prepared to hold their ground for some time in order to slow down the advance of enemy ground forces. Eleven men were currently guarding the post while the twelfth was out on patrol. They had a pair of M2 Browning machine guns along with standard M4 carbines and grenade launchers to arm themselves with. They also had a sniper in the top floor of a nearby building on the corner covering the nearest intersection.

The night was unusually darker than most since the grid went down this morning. Only dying fires and the pale blue glow of alien fighter craft broke the pitch darkness of the night. Even the stars and moon were obscured by the clouds of smoke that lingered about much of the Boston metropolitan area. A pair of beamers flew out from the center of the city. They were surveying the area no doubt the soldiers presumed. It would be foolish to think their little guard post was not sighted; advanced aliens would undoubtedly have some form of night vision technology. Apparently though the soldiers weren't worth the effort to bomb.

Tom and his family had made a hasty retreat north following the ambush. When they drew near to the observation post they were forced to slow down due to Ben's asthma acting up again.

"Easy now Ben." Tom tried to calm him.

"Do you need your inhaler dear?" asked Rebecca.

Ben shook his head from side to side. "No I'm fine Mom." he coughed.

They waited for him to catch his breath and then continued north at a more modest pace. Ben understood the need to press on quickly, that they had to get out of Boston on the double before more of those things reached them. Ben knew that Mr. Dixon had run out of bullets and the bludgeoning implements they had wouldn't be very effective against creatures with superior speed and strength to their own not to mention their arms reach significantly outmatched a human's and they had body armor over an already extant hard natural shell. The Masons couldn't slow down, they couldn't stop, they had to keep going. Tom being particularly knowledgeable in battlefield strategy from the context of military history realized that what the aliens were doing was securing the Boston metro so they could turn it into a regional base of operations, much in the same manner as medieval lords used fortified castles to hold sway over much larger tracts of the surrounding countryside. Once they got far enough away from the city they would be safe, at least until the aliens entered the next phase of their operation. Tom had hoped that would at least give them time to bed down someplace safe for a few hours. Boston was a lot of ground to secure even for a highly advanced race of spider-men.

When Tom passed the military outpost he was taken by surprise. While he had noticed abandoned or destroyed military vehicles along his route he hadn't seen any active combat troops until now. It was a relief to know that the Earth's defenses hadn't been completely blown to kingdom come. This could be the first good news Tom had learned all day.

"Hey mister. Are you lost?" one of the soldiers called out to Tom as he was passing by.

After catching Tom's attention the soldier who was also the post commander waved a green glow stick over at Tom who was looking in his direction. Tom led his family towards the makeshift fort and approached the soldier. When Tom arrived the soldier tucked the glow stick down behind the cars were a ring of several glow sticks provided a low level of illumination for the soldiers to see what they were doing but not enough to draw attention to the location from unwelcome eyes.

"Awfully late to be wandering around out in the open. Are you lost?" the soldier asked again.

"We're not lost; we're heading north to New Hampshire." Tom replied.

Why New Hampshire? What's up there for you?" the soldier asked.

"Nothing, but it's away from here. With any luck once we get out into the countryside we'll be in the clear from these monsters." Tom explained. He didn't want to tell them about his friend's bunker in the mountains. He couldn't bring too many people with him or it would eventually get noticed by the aliens.

"Still New Hampshire's an awful long way to be walking." the soldier remarked.

"What other choice to we have? The roads are blocked and just about everything with an engine refuses to start." Tom replied.

"Well there's a safe place for civilians set up over in Concord if you want somewhere to get away from this mess that's a little closer by." the soldier informed Tom and his family.

"How safe?" Tom said.

"As safe as the army can make it. We've mustered all the forces on this side of Boston that survived the attack." the soldier replied.

Tom looked over at his family who remained silent. Hal looked to be considering it but Rebecca shook her head no. A large group of people gathered together would make a tempting target for the aliens and no military force regardless of how large and well equipped would be able to stop them. Vlensa's bunker was a far safer bet.

"Thanks but no thanks; we've got our own plans." Tom replied.

"Well we offered. We can't force you to go, even if it's for your own good." the soldier told Tom.

"Hope New Hampshire pans out for you. Best of luck to you my friend." the soldier said, wishing Tom well.

Tom turned to leave just as the twelfth man was returning on motorbike. Hearing the sound of the engine Tom stopped, turned to the post commander and asked "You have motorcycles that work?"

"Some of the bikes still work apparently, simple designs, not a lot of bells and whistles left them less vulnerable when the electronics got fried. You just change out a few simple parts and you're good to go." the soldier explained.

As the soldier explained to Tom how they got their wheels back the biker pulled up alongside them, visibly nervous and shaken by what he had seen. The garrison commander hopped out from behind the fortification and ran over to the biker and the soldier on point.

"Sir, we've got. . a problem." panted the hyperventilating soldier.

He was as bad as Ben Hal thought, gasping for breath on the verge of a panic attack.

"Calm down man! We got you! Go slow and tell us what did you see?" the garrison commander asked.

"Spidermen, aliens, whatever, they're coming." the scout answered in short choppy breaths.

"Here?" the soldier asked for clarification.

"I don't know. It looks like they're headed straight for Concord." the scout reported.

"How many?" the commander asked.

"Between two and three hundred of the creatures I'd suppose and I counted six of these giant robot chicken things." the scout reported.

"Robot chickens." snickered another soldier.

"Damn it!" cursed the commander. "You, get on the other bike and go down there and make some noise. Bring those god damned cockroaches back here. We have to buy Concord some more time." the commander ordered the soldier on point.

"Yes sir." replied the soldier before sprinting off to one of the other motorcycles stashed on the sidewalk behind the north side of the fortification.

"Raise the alarm and get back here ready to fight." the garrison commander told the scout.

The scout rode down the street, climbed up to the roof of a building and shot two flares into the sky. He then lit a barrel of dry refuse soaked in gasoline to provide a continuous signal.

"God I hope they are looking. If the roving watch isn't on our side of Concord they probably didn't see that. " the post commander commented.

"Why is that?" Tom asked.

"We don't have the manpower to staff observation posts every couple miles along the way between here and there. The roving watch circles around the outside of Concord to keep tabs on our forward observation posts in every direction. They usually make a round every fifteen to twenty minutes." the commander explained.

"What about the smoke?" Tom asked.

"There's smoke everywhere, they might not be able to pick our smoke signal out from the rest of it." the commander replied.

Tom then got the request he expected from the soldiers. He had felt it coming on once the commander complained about the roving watch. "Sir I don't mean to be a bother but could you hurry over to Concord and raise the alarm in case they didn't pick up our signal. You can take our bikes. We'll hold these six legged freaks off as long as we can." the commander asked him.

Every fighter counted, if they could get Tom to deliver the message it would allow them to mount a stronger defense and possibly buy a few more minutes for the defenders at Concord to prepare to repel the attack. Now Tom didn't want to do this but it would be awfully rude to spit in the face of these men who were willing to lay down their lives to protect the people in Concord while he acted like a coward and only looked out for himself. They weren't asking him to pick up a gun and fight, though after what these creatures did to his little boy he was inclined to do just that, they were only asking him to deliver a message.

"I will." Tom accepted. "Could we have some of those bikes, enough for me and my family so that we can get there quicker?" Tom asked.

"Certainly. Talk to that man over there he'll get you set up." the commander said, pointing Tom in the direction of one particular soldier before he went to see to the preparing the unit to engage a larger, smarter and presumably better equipped foe.

Tom and his family went to the soldier they were directed towards. The soldier showed them a row of operational motorbikes and allowed them to select those that were to their liking.

"Take this flare gun and when you get outside the city limits fire it off. They should see it from that distance." the soldier told Tom after he had picked out his bike. Tom stuffed the flare gun in the left pocket of his jacket and nodded to acknowledge the soldier's orders.

"Would you happen to have any more rounds for my piece here?" Dixon asked the soldiers taking out his gun and showing it to them.

"Let me check for you." the soldier said walking back and kneeling down by one of their two ammo crates.

The soldier found what he was looking for and brought Dixon two handfuls of slugs for his pistol. He then went back while Dixon was loading his gun and retrieved a spare M14 rifle leaning up against a stack of tires. He then brought it to Tom who was waiting for his family to mount their bikes.

"And here, take this, you might end up needing it tonight." the soldier told Tom as he handed him the spare M14 rifle and some ammo.

Tom put the spare bullets in his pocket and slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Thank you." he told the soldier.

Tom got on his bike and had his son Ben hold onto him from behind. Karen rode with Hal on his bike while Paul Dixon rode with Mike. Rebecca was the only one who got her own bike and thus Tom's family left the soldiers two bikes for themselves. They weren't planning on retreating however. This would likely be their last stand and they knew it. After Tom sped off and the sound of his motorcycle engines became distant and that of their scout's engine drew closer the soldiers tensed in anticipation of their final hours. One even pissed his pants leaving a yellow pool to form beneath his left boot. They manned the machine guns and each took cover within the fortification and behind cars spread out across the road. Their scout rode up and ditched his bike behind an empty bus, taking up his rifle and reloading it's under barrel grenade launcher. Soon after an advance force of seven skitters crawled into the line of fire. Their hidden sniper took one out with a well-placed head shot while the other soldiers opened fire with all weapons at the others. Rifle fire deflected off the skitter's body armor harmlessly when it struck center mass and wounded the creatures when it struck the hardened scales of the aliens' skin. The M2s were the only thing capable of tearing through the body armor and knocking down the skitters easily. As seven more came into view climbing over overturned vehicles ahead of them they were peppered with rounds, taking many of them before they each went down. Another five skitters met the same fate, nearing closer to the fortification but failing to storm its walls. As the soldiers began to reload one by one the point guard of the skitter attack had been destroyed. The next wave of two dozen skitters crawled not just over the cars head on into the soldiers' fire but down the sides of the buildings shielding them on their flanks. The soldiers diverted fire onto their flanks and allowed three skitters to climb over their ramparts and tear into their ranks. The soldiers turned to close quarters combat and managed to repel the skitters back beyond the barricade only to have a rocket fired from the first mech to come onto the scene land in their midst, detonating among their munitions stores and consuming the lot of them in a blue hot fireball. The sniper inside the building was gouged through the back by a skitter that slipped in behind him while he was picking off another in the streets. The sniper was then tossed onto the street where he snapped his neck and right shoulder to the side upon impact leaving a stain upon the road now illuminated by the flames the rocket had kindled. Those soldiers remaining on the fringes outside the flames fought on but fell quickly to the swarming alien attack.

After making it a few miles down the road towards Concord the sound of automatic weapons fire rang out from behind them. The enemy was upon them. Twelve versus three hundred; those soldiers were on a suicide mission. They could hold back the tide but not for long. Soon Tom would have skitters nipping at his heels.

"Ben, hold on." Tom said as increased the throttle to maximum and raced away towards Concord, like a modern day Paul Revere to warn the military garrison there that the spiders were coming.


End file.
